Yaakov C. Lui-Hyden's Blog
January 13, 2021
Writing update
Development timeline:
Out Next week:
“Diary of a Time-Travelling Alien”. 2nd Edition with added chapters.
In two weeks:
“Jael: The Lord’s Archer.” Second book in the Angels of Zion series.
6 weeks away:
“Tusheti Dawn”. Post apocalypse action/sci fi. Last valley of humanity against an impending threat.
12 weeks away:
“The Witch and the Warlock” Romance. A matriarchal world where only women and Warlocks can hold and use steel. And Warlocks main value is their seed.Except for their blood, that is.
18 weeks away:
“Psychopath with a heart of gold” . Spy thriller set in Turkey and Georgia
Further out:
“Zombie love lasts forever”. Who doesn’t need Space Zombie Ottoman pirates?
“It’s not funny” Terry the comedian and murdered wife in New York.
“Claire and the Alien”. Sequel to Diary of a Time- Travelling Alien
Third book in Angels of Zion series
“Deephaven” ( Working title)My original and lost story, high fantasy
“Andrew Campbell” (working title). Earth flung into space, a new civilization emerges.
Out Next week:
“Diary of a Time-Travelling Alien”. 2nd Edition with added chapters.
In two weeks:
“Jael: The Lord’s Archer.” Second book in the Angels of Zion series.
6 weeks away:
“Tusheti Dawn”. Post apocalypse action/sci fi. Last valley of humanity against an impending threat.
12 weeks away:
“The Witch and the Warlock” Romance. A matriarchal world where only women and Warlocks can hold and use steel. And Warlocks main value is their seed.Except for their blood, that is.
18 weeks away:
“Psychopath with a heart of gold” . Spy thriller set in Turkey and Georgia
Further out:
“Zombie love lasts forever”. Who doesn’t need Space Zombie Ottoman pirates?
“It’s not funny” Terry the comedian and murdered wife in New York.
“Claire and the Alien”. Sequel to Diary of a Time- Travelling Alien
Third book in Angels of Zion series
“Deephaven” ( Working title)My original and lost story, high fantasy
“Andrew Campbell” (working title). Earth flung into space, a new civilization emerges.
December 31, 2020
New release
So excited that my book, Orkney: Romance, Magic and Murder on the Scottish Isles has been released.
This is a full novel(approx 90k words). And has romance, action, humour, murder and spooky folklore.
Jael: The Lord’s Archer , book 2 of Angels of Zion series was delayed by Orkney but will be out soon. I have more exciting stories to tell coming out over the next few months.
Thank you for your support!
This is a full novel(approx 90k words). And has romance, action, humour, murder and spooky folklore.
Jael: The Lord’s Archer , book 2 of Angels of Zion series was delayed by Orkney but will be out soon. I have more exciting stories to tell coming out over the next few months.
Thank you for your support!
December 5, 2020
Two new novels
I am really excited. "Orkney: Romance, magic and murder on the Scottish isles" is due for release in a few days.
This is a full length novel that fans of Murder mystery and folk lore will enjoy. It does contain strong language and some heated scenes.
Book 2 of Angels of Sion saga, Jael: The Lord’s archer is due to follow soon, almost done. I’m thrilled to continue this saga.
More to come!
This is a full length novel that fans of Murder mystery and folk lore will enjoy. It does contain strong language and some heated scenes.
Book 2 of Angels of Sion saga, Jael: The Lord’s archer is due to follow soon, almost done. I’m thrilled to continue this saga.
More to come!
October 9, 2020
Words like sand
A poet today
has accolades
A poem of yesteryear
Washed away in time
Words are sand on a shore
They can have bright yellow hue
Or be ash from volcanoes
Words can be shaped and formed
Sandcastles of temporary worth
Or mixed with grittier things
Cement between the bricks of life
Holding us all together
Storms can surge
And waves descend
And words can be swallowed
Into a sea of indifference
Words need to be guarded.
Employed as fits their station
Not scattered to the wind
Or awaiting erosion
Build spires and temples with your words
Build up and secure a solid foundation.
For they will come for your words
Smash those sandcastles
Eat away your shore
Till you are a hollow tusk of land
And no more
Prize your words
Written, spoken and sung
Articulate them with fondness
Less your voice be destroyed
Lay siege to new words
Humble them under your gaze
Employ them in your artillery
As they dance from mind to tongue
Regain lost ground
Fortify and expand
Words are precious
Worth more than diamonds or gold
Hunger for them
Embrace them
Or have your voice unheard
Reason slipped from your grasp
Washed away
Sand gone from seashore.
has accolades
A poem of yesteryear
Washed away in time
Words are sand on a shore
They can have bright yellow hue
Or be ash from volcanoes
Words can be shaped and formed
Sandcastles of temporary worth
Or mixed with grittier things
Cement between the bricks of life
Holding us all together
Storms can surge
And waves descend
And words can be swallowed
Into a sea of indifference
Words need to be guarded.
Employed as fits their station
Not scattered to the wind
Or awaiting erosion
Build spires and temples with your words
Build up and secure a solid foundation.
For they will come for your words
Smash those sandcastles
Eat away your shore
Till you are a hollow tusk of land
And no more
Prize your words
Written, spoken and sung
Articulate them with fondness
Less your voice be destroyed
Lay siege to new words
Humble them under your gaze
Employ them in your artillery
As they dance from mind to tongue
Regain lost ground
Fortify and expand
Words are precious
Worth more than diamonds or gold
Hunger for them
Embrace them
Or have your voice unheard
Reason slipped from your grasp
Washed away
Sand gone from seashore.
September 8, 2020
Just some fun
“I won’t lie to myself or others”
A vow one could admire
As I walked towards the bathroom
I smelt smoke, the situation dire
Running in I saw the crisis at the clothes dryer
For deep within but in plain sight,
My pants were on fire.
A vow one could admire
As I walked towards the bathroom
I smelt smoke, the situation dire
Running in I saw the crisis at the clothes dryer
For deep within but in plain sight,
My pants were on fire.
Musings
I think about writing
I dream of being a writer
Fanciful thoughts in my head
A menagerie of scenes and plot twists
I congratulate myself for my cleverness
Yet not type a word
The night becomes morn and this is the day!
Alas my enthusiasm wanes
Distractions nudge me
The day is lost
But tomorrow, aye tomorrow, will be my day
Words spilling onto a page
Dancing fingers upon the keys
Oh what could be
As I come to realization
I haven’t written a word
Still, what imagination!
What raw potential
What could be if I just sat for a few hours
I mean, I enjoy sitting
And my computer knows me better than my wife
But I write not
Oh come my muse
Take my hand, my pen
Scrawl something down will you?
Why in this hour am I forsaken?
2000 words I could write,
Oh muse just give 1000
Begrudgingly I will take 500
100?
50?
Tomorrow then!
And this plays out throughout the years
Perhaps arthritis will strike my hands
Before the epoch is written
Father Time, give back my fervor of youth
My bloody mindedness
God considered me to be a prophet
Then said” He just doesn’t write”
Ah but when I do! I am the composer
A symphony of words lifts from the page
I play those keys as good as any concert pianist
My words incense to the heavens
Oh it’s marvelous to write
Write little and often
Or pour your soul onto a page
Deep into the night
But the days are few
When obsession strikes
Days when if you do not write
Surely you would die
Your words save the world
From an explosion of thoughts and ideas
When the kettle boils,
Enact your vengeance on the world with a pen
That searing volcano of writing compulsion
Save mankind and get it out quick!
You’re the hero for writing
Lest your words be swallowed by the void
So today I will think and dream of writing
And maybe, just maybe, tomorrow I will write
Or perhaps the day after..
I dream of being a writer
Fanciful thoughts in my head
A menagerie of scenes and plot twists
I congratulate myself for my cleverness
Yet not type a word
The night becomes morn and this is the day!
Alas my enthusiasm wanes
Distractions nudge me
The day is lost
But tomorrow, aye tomorrow, will be my day
Words spilling onto a page
Dancing fingers upon the keys
Oh what could be
As I come to realization
I haven’t written a word
Still, what imagination!
What raw potential
What could be if I just sat for a few hours
I mean, I enjoy sitting
And my computer knows me better than my wife
But I write not
Oh come my muse
Take my hand, my pen
Scrawl something down will you?
Why in this hour am I forsaken?
2000 words I could write,
Oh muse just give 1000
Begrudgingly I will take 500
100?
50?
Tomorrow then!
And this plays out throughout the years
Perhaps arthritis will strike my hands
Before the epoch is written
Father Time, give back my fervor of youth
My bloody mindedness
God considered me to be a prophet
Then said” He just doesn’t write”
Ah but when I do! I am the composer
A symphony of words lifts from the page
I play those keys as good as any concert pianist
My words incense to the heavens
Oh it’s marvelous to write
Write little and often
Or pour your soul onto a page
Deep into the night
But the days are few
When obsession strikes
Days when if you do not write
Surely you would die
Your words save the world
From an explosion of thoughts and ideas
When the kettle boils,
Enact your vengeance on the world with a pen
That searing volcano of writing compulsion
Save mankind and get it out quick!
You’re the hero for writing
Lest your words be swallowed by the void
So today I will think and dream of writing
And maybe, just maybe, tomorrow I will write
Or perhaps the day after..
