Red Room Where the Writers Are

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It took significant mulling and research of the risks involved before I decided to gamble on presenting in an online forum this prologue to my recently finished novel Dragon's Ark to a public I'm not at all sure is waiting for another novel about the original Superman of Evil, the first Man in Black--Dracula.

The first risk, of course, comes from the black flag of piracy, a problem that all artists have faced throughout history, but now seem even more perilous in the digital age (Hence, the extra bite in the copyright notice at the end).

The second risk, of course, is how much opprobrium I risk by presenting a segment from a work, which has, so far, stimulated no interest from agents or publishers. No one knows whether their work is good or not until it lies exposed under the cold glare of the real world. ("I hate to say this after all your hard work, Mr. Burchfield, but . . . .").

I guess it's time I received some hints, though I well know some readers will react to me as I though I were their clumsy dentist and will be happy to return the favor ("Your book creates a vacuum in my reality!")

And as Dragon's Ark, like so much supernatural-horror fiction, is not for tender dewy-eyed spirits, reactions from those quarters will also likely be negative (and really, you dear hearts should be warned--within this tale lurks a most cheerfully vicious demon.)

As those of you who are writers must know, the marketplace for books in general and fiction in particular, has never been so narrow and discouraging as it is now. This fact has done nothing to discourage millions like us from writing and trying to sell books to an overcrowded marketplace (though we may secretly wish it did). It also forces us to become much more persistent, creative and clever in how we get our work out into the world.

As clever-and sometimes as ruthless--as Dracula.

And so, I post this prologue not only for your desired pleasure (and my edification) but also in the hope that some publisher somewhere will look out their windows to find readers bearing torches and pitchforks clamoring to see my book between two covers, out in the world.

If you haven't been put off by now, what you are about to read is what is called a "teaser," a common device in genre fiction (Ghost Story by Peter Straub, for one, deploys it brilliantly). It exists somewhat separately from the main tale, so much so, it could almost be a story unto itself, though it is also well wired to the main plot.

Dragon's Ark was written over a period of more than four years (if I ever spend that amount of time again it ought to be on something like War and Peace). It was sparked by a teasing remark from my wife (to whom this is dedicated most of all) while we were groping on foot along a country road at sunset in wild, remote and lovely Alpine County, California, in the early aughts.

Its actual execution was inspired by a lifelong love and respect for the horror genre, specifically by the work of (obviously) Bram Stoker, along with Stephen King, Peter Straub and the unjustly ignored Ramsey Campbell (though this text is nowhere near as subtle and poetic as his great work). This means I take a little more time with things, unlike the ever-breathless Dean Koontz.

By the time I finished Dragon's Ark at the end of May of this year, the marketplace was, once again, a-froth with another crimson churn of vampire novels. To say I don't find my poor timing to be another daunting obstacle would be deceitful . . . but, like the digital age, there it is. You just get on with it.

For those of you who read with an Oprah-atic eye, you'll find none of me in the prologue. As for the rest of my tale, there's only a couple of crumbs that fall directly from the bread loaf of my life, no matter how close you hold it to your scrounging eye: I gave my romantic male doctor lead a boyish fondness for vintage sagebrush cinema; and both him and his adored, but possessed, wife, the round-eyed calico who often wandered my desk to purr at me with her adoring gaze, so innocent of the fate I was spinning for her in the dizzying, dangerous landscape of my imagination.

But for that you'll have to read the rest . . . in the meantime, take care and enjoy this portion. I look forward to your responses.

(Re-edited 10/14/09)