Keith Deininger's Blog, page 5
May 11, 2015
How to Write a Query Letter: Keep it Simple
When I first began submitting novels to literary agents, I scoured the internet looking for advice on how to write a query letter. I found a lot of information, some of it conflicting, but what I found most helpful were sample query letters, so I thought I’d share mine. I have a completed horror novel manuscript I’ve […]
May 6, 2015
Enter to Win a Signed Copy of WITHIN
.goodreadsGiveawayWidget { color: #555; font-family: georgia, serif; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; background: white; } .goodreadsGiveawayWidget p { margin: 0 0 .5em !important; padding: 0; } .goodreadsGiveawayWidgetEnterLink { display: inline-block; color: #181818; background-color: #F6F6EE; border: 1px solid #9D8A78; border-radius: 3px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; outline: none; font-size: 13px; padding: 8px 12px; } .goodreadsGiveawayWidgetEnterLink:hover { color: #181818; background-color: #F7F2ED; border: 1px solid #AFAFAF; text-decoration: none; }Goodreads Book Giveaway
Withinby Keith Deininger
Withinby Keith DeiningerGiveaway ends June 05, 2015.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads.
Enter to WinApril 27, 2015
Complete Transparency #2: Digging Ditches, in Which I Discuss the Project Itself
Welcome back to this author’s column on his foray into self-publishing. Last time, I discussed a few reasons I have chosen self-publishing for this project (Click here if you need to catch up). This time, I’d like to give you a better idea of what I’m attempting, and talk about the project itself. My obsession. I have, at this point, […]
April 24, 2015
From THE BLOOD TO TALOS, work in progress
They washed him, shaved his face, trimmed his hair. They gave him clothes, cream colored shirts and pants, and a robe the “color of midnight” with a star bursting from the end of a quill embroidered on its front. No one asked him any questions, and his own were ignored or met with dismissive grunts. He was taken through corridors and into various chambers and told to wait, once with a young man dressed as he was and looking just as bewildered, but his name was called before he had a chance to talk with the young man and he was taken down another hallway, this one opening, its walls festooned with paintings of all different styles, some that appeared very old. One that caught his eye was a portrait of a man in a white suit of armor, holding a bulbous helmet by his side, the luminous moon filling the background behind him. But he only caught a glimpse, and then his feet were treading carpet the same color as his robe and he was brought before the largest woman he had ever seen, filling an entire couch like a chair, a plump and effeminate man standing by her side, a visible pistol at his belt, whispering conspiracies to the woman, who laughed uproariously through a mouthful of food.
--from work in progress, THE BLOOD OF TALOS, The Godgame, book II
--from work in progress, THE BLOOD OF TALOS, The Godgame, book II
April 14, 2015
The Seventeen Layers of the Human Soul, from Upcoming Novel WITHIN
Pre-order by clicking the cover image above. General release is May 5th, 2015.
The Seventeen Layers of the Human Soul
The hypnagogic state
Astral extremities
Mental projection
Mathematics
Rain
The ethereal wall
The odor of wind
Sex
Walking as if on water
The twenty-seven colors of the Umbra Ina
Otherworldly emissions
History
Purple membrane
Muck
The memory of trees
Red
Roaring in the ears
(The preceding is a curious excerpt from the journals of Colin Thorne, as presented in my upcoming novel, WITHIN.)
April 9, 2015
From Work in Progress
It happened in the middle of the night. Hardly a sound. A faint slurp, nothing more.
Kya heard it and stole up the stairs, but by the time she reached the deck, Zachariah was gone. He had dropped over the side. The Veridian Sea had swallowed him, the waters increased by the sum of his dissolving flesh.
The next morning, no one spoke of it, although all knew what had happened.
Kya heard it and stole up the stairs, but by the time she reached the deck, Zachariah was gone. He had dropped over the side. The Veridian Sea had swallowed him, the waters increased by the sum of his dissolving flesh.
The next morning, no one spoke of it, although all knew what had happened.
April 8, 2015
From Work in Progress
“Few who come this far ever return,” Captain Emerson had said. “And those who do are never the same thereafter.”
“Didn’t you say you’ve been here before?” she’d asked.
Captain Emerson had turned to her and grinned openly. “Yes. Yes I have,” he’d said and squeezed her shoulder.
She’d giggled and he’d laughed.
Later, she’d wondered about the captain. She really liked him, his carefree nature, but, for a moment, she’d seen something else in his eyes, an emotion she couldn’t quite identify, an internal secret.
She stared at the Veridian Sea. A feeling stirred inside her. A dull throb began behind her eyes. It’s not natural, she thought. We shouldn’t be out here.
The others had joined her--Gwen, Zachariah, even Lemm--standing against the rail, looking out at the green waters. The captain had taken up a position at the prow of his ship, staring out as well. There were no waves, only a gentle parting of the water. It was cool, a dull breeze, the horizon bare. The only sounds were the sloshing of the boat and the beating of their hearts. No one spoke. They stared at the relentless, monotonous waters, empty hours drifting by around them.
“Didn’t you say you’ve been here before?” she’d asked.
Captain Emerson had turned to her and grinned openly. “Yes. Yes I have,” he’d said and squeezed her shoulder.
She’d giggled and he’d laughed.
Later, she’d wondered about the captain. She really liked him, his carefree nature, but, for a moment, she’d seen something else in his eyes, an emotion she couldn’t quite identify, an internal secret.
She stared at the Veridian Sea. A feeling stirred inside her. A dull throb began behind her eyes. It’s not natural, she thought. We shouldn’t be out here.
The others had joined her--Gwen, Zachariah, even Lemm--standing against the rail, looking out at the green waters. The captain had taken up a position at the prow of his ship, staring out as well. There were no waves, only a gentle parting of the water. It was cool, a dull breeze, the horizon bare. The only sounds were the sloshing of the boat and the beating of their hearts. No one spoke. They stared at the relentless, monotonous waters, empty hours drifting by around them.
April 2, 2015
March 19, 2015
March 12, 2015
Origins of a Writer: Deininger
As a child, I tested way below the reading level for my grade, but I always loved stories. My mom used to read to me and, despite my difficulties, I soon began to struggle through the works of C.S. Lewis and Roald Dahl. I had a lot of imagination (still do) and a natural desire […]
