The Low Grumble of Thunder...

The Low Grumble of Thunder...

Years ago, I had this little ditty published by Six Sentences and, well, I’ve always had a soft spot for it. Mel Bosworth also made a terrific recording of it and — while it’s never appeared anywhere else — I loved just knowing it was out there in the world. I went looking for that terrific recording not too long ago, and unfortunately it seems it has been lost to the vagaries and slow degradation of the interwebs.

The piece has always had exactly the right feel for a more cinematic treatment…and, well, I finally got around to finding the talent folks needed to realize that visual dream! If only I had Mel’s voice to go with it! Oh well, we’ll have to settle for mine. So here we are, years after its original publication, checking yet another little bit off the to-do list of forever.

And Marc Hamill (not that one, I don’t think!) really did It up, really understanding the mood and feel I was after in the piece was after. And when that happens, it always feels like I owe the fates a little thank you…so thank you!

If interested, you can watch other fun stuff over at the Audio/Video, Misc. Page.

The Cicada Has Landed!

At long last (supply chain delays be damned!), we’ve got CICADA in-house and orders will be shipping out directly!

For all who’ve already ordered: I truly can’t thank you enough for your patience. I hate hate hate being late on a release date, but I suppose sometimes things are simply beyond our control. So we do our best, move forward, and try to learn from the process! Any-who…expect a little something extra in your long-delayed orders, as it seemed the least I could do.

It’s been terrific to work, again, with Sean Lynch, and to really take stock of specifically one piece, try to chronicle it from start to finish to better understand what happen with it, and how. It’s easy to lose sight of these subtle kinds of magic in the hustle and bustle of working on whatever’s next. The simple truth is, anything reaching anyone beyond folks we directly know is a kind of miracle, and even when looking deeply at it, there’s just no way to ever fully grasp how a piece connects with others. In fact, since the book was sent off to the printer, I did another cursory search and discovered a couple more tattoos, and even a touching instance where the poem used was a metaphor for someone’s transition into their preferred self. As ever, I am humbled and surprised by everyone who feels a kinship with the poem. And I’m grateful to witness the continued magic of all of this.