He opened his eyes to see Janie standing over him, her small frame drum tucked under her bare arm. She smiled, bent to kiss his forehead, then turned and placed the drum on a shelf by the window. "There's eggs on the stove," she said, stopping to pick up her fur-lined jacket. Coinin watched with a mixture of love and amazement as Janie slipped into her coat, fastened her buttons, and pulled a stocking cap from the pocket to mash down over her fiery hair. Janie winked, blew him a kiss, and started down the hallway. "Don't forget the spirits," she called back to him. Coinin sighed and smiled and listened as Janie left the house. The wind howled its chronic frustration as she closed the door and was gone.
Coinin closed his eyes, taking a moment to re-trace the steps of his journey. Rabbit's words stumbled around his soul like a toddler demanding attention. But they would not be understood. Nothing was ever as it seemed. Myth and symbol were the rulers of the underworld, obfuscation the language of the gods. Yet Rabbit's warning chilled Coinin in ways the cold could only envy. He pulled the covers up to his neck and closed his eyes. "Who's coming?" he whispered to the empty room. There was no answer, but the breath of his words hung for a moment in the icy air above his face.
Just another ghost in this haunted world.
Smashwords Interview with the Author, Discussing the Entire None So Blind Series
Read my Smashwords Author Interview here:
https://www.smashwords.com/interview/TimothyScottBennett
Excerpt:
Okay. So, in that spirit, what would you like to say about Imbolc?
Um... not much. But I'll say what I can. We actually see a scene from Imbolc in Rumi's Field. A small "flash forward" that reveals something about Cole's story and points to a future he does not understand. In this small flash, he's an old man, walking through an ice-encrusted landscape, looking for his daughter, Grace, who's now grown.
So the story jumps far ahead, then.
About thirty years or so. And things have changed a great deal, as a direct result of the events in Rumi's Field. There've been more unravelings of the present social systems, and Linda's mandate to "reach up to the stars" has flowered in unexpected ways. But you probably shouldn't quote me on any of this.
Why's that?
Well, the story has yet to fully unfold in my consciousness. I know where it begins, and much of what has transpired in the time between, and I know some really juicy bits about where it's headed. But until I sit for long periods and view the characters as they live through the story, there's much that I don't know. That delicious revelation that happens when you read a book or watch a movie? It happens for me as I write the story as well. It's the thing that makes writing the most exciting and fun for me. I can't wait.
The story's called Imbolc, which, if memory serves, is the old Celtic festival roughly equivalent to the modern Groundhog's Day. A festival that celebrates the first signs of spring.
Yes. So winter has come. But now there's a new smell to the air, a slightly warmer breeze, and even a new bud or two, appearing on the trees. But I mean that metaphorically as well as physically. Lots of things are shifting.
Will Imbolc center around the same cast of characters?
It will center on Cole and Linda, for sure. And it will go more deeply into their relationship. Focusing more on their "love story," if you will. Around them will be many of the characters we've grown to know and love. And a cast of new folks will make their appearance, as we should also expect.
Cats and dogs included?
And a rabbit. One who's been with me for a very long time, and is finally getting the chance to play out his story. And we'll finally learn why I named my publishing company Blue Hag Books.
I cant' wait.
You'll have to. But hopefully not as long as you've had to wait for Rumi's Field.
Acknowledgements
My thanks begin with Sally, who has been there beside me through the whole process, reading, editing, suggesting, challenging, cheering, and encouraging. Writing can feel like a lonely endeavor. Some days it’s hard to know if I’m on the right path. How essential, for me, to have somebody who can see what I do not, and can point to where my next footstep might go.
Thanks also to my reading group, the people to whom I sent my first draft copy as it flowed out of my fingers. Simon Beer, David Bennett, Paul Chefurka, Jim Fry, Gordon Glover, Curt Hubatch, Keith Johnson, Joe Kaiser, Ann Kreilkamp, Philip Payson, Ryan Rathje, and Vincent Reynolds, just knowing y’all were there made all the difference. I might never have done it otherwise.
Thanks to Sarah Erickson and Sally Erickson, who know about things like colors and fonts and images and marketing, and who helped me with covers and designs.
Thanks to those who read All of the Above, and then either left comments or wrote emails or posted Amazon reviews. It was a bit stunning to me, to learn that a documentary audience did not automatically mean a fiction audience. Your comments kept me going when I felt discouraged, and helped me know that there was a reason to take the time to get what was in my mind and heart onto the page, where others might share in it.
Thanks as always to the many fellow travelers whose work inspired, informed, and intrigued me. Here are a few who spring to mind right now: Douglas Adams, Richard Bach, Itzhak Bentov, Octavia Butler, Samuel R. Delany, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Richard Dolan, Stephen R. Donaldson, Raymond Fowler, Graham Hancock, Frank Herbert, Russell Hoban, Carl Jung, Bernardo Kastrup, John Keel, Anne Lamott, Dave McGowan, Terence McKenna, Robert Monroe, Larry Niven, Mary Oliver, Daniel Quinn, Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī, Rupert Sheldrake, Starhawk, Whitley Strieber, Michael Talbot, Jacques Vallée, Kurt Vonnegut, and Jonathan Zap. There are, of course, others. Thanks for letting me peek over the edge and look around, folks.
Thanks, of course, to the Blue Lady, who was more gentle with me this time around, even at the expense of it taking so much longer. And thanks to that rabbit, the little bastard. You’ll both be making an appearance in Book Three. I hope I do you justice. Say “hey” to Rocco for me.
Timothy Scott Bennett
January 2017
Chapel Hill, North Carolina
Endnote
Thank you for reading my book. I hope very much that doing so was a valuable experience for you. I've heard it said that the best way to thank an author is to write a review. In my experience, reviews are crucial to the process of an author and his or her readers finding each other. If you enjoyed this book, please, take a moment and post a review at your favorite retailer. And then post it wherever you hang out, on Facebook or Twitter, or even your own blog. I will be eternally grateful. Pax, Tim
Rumi's Field (None So Blind Book 2) Page 79
