As a hiker and long-time resident of the Blue Ridge mountains, I have an up-close and personal relationship with our native black bear population. Actually, not that up close, of…
It’s been a big week in my mailroom. Not only did I get my first proof copy of the paper edition of my upcoming novel GRONE, I also received a bit of original artwork from one of the most respective visual artists in Hollywood and the world of science fiction: John Eaves. It’s a sketch of one of his concept designs for the USS Enterprise NX-01 for the show Star Trek: Enterprise. Y’all know I’m a big Star Trek fan AND a fan of sci-fi concept art, so getting a sketch from Mr. John Eaves himself thrilled me to the core.
Here’s the story of how it happened:
Very excited to have received a preliminary proof copy of my upcoming novel’s trade paperback edition. If you love sci-fi and would like to participate in the advanced review program, read on!
The closest thing to fine art in the world of science-fiction blueprints, Franz Joseph’s original deck plans of the “Fabulous Starship Enterprise” fired the imaginations of an entire generation of kids, myself included, and created a energetic fandom that led to the revival of Star Trek and its eventual status as a pop-culture juggernaut.
It was never a good idea to drive a defective British roadster into the desert, but the promise of adventure was irresistible. It was June, 1987. Ronald Reagan was president and the Berlin Wall had not yet fallen. I was 24 years old, heartbroken from a failed romance, ready to take a risk I would normally have never considered. Here’s an entirely-true love story of a young man, his absurd motorcar and a thousand-foot cliff.
Created in the style of Franz Joseph’s original deck plans of the “Fabulous Starship Enterprise” these fan-produced Klingon blueprints by Mike McMaster kicked off five decades of Star Trek blueprint fandom.
Leo Tolstoy once set out to write novel about the Russian defeat of Napoleon’s armies. As he researched the history leading up to the events of 1825, he decided to…
When I was a kid back in the 1970s and 80s, I wanted to be a starship designer. So, I did it. My mom, a patient, wonderful and talented woman…
I met Jens a week after walking across the Pyrenees from France. It was September, and we were in the heart of Basque country, following the ancient pilgrimage trail to the city of Santiago de Compostela which lay over four hundred miles to the west. I’d noticed Jens earlier in the day, an old man tottering along the path, sweating despite the relative cool, his tall figure supported by a pair of trekking poles upon which he leaned precariously. As I’d hurried past him I’d nodded and given him the traditional pilgrim’s greeting: “Buen Camino!”
He’d been too occupied by the strenuous act of walking to return the greeting, but he had returned my nod. His age made him an exception on the Camino. Most of the other hikers were middle-aged or younger. Though he bore himself with youthful pride, his gait gave him away. It was the shuffle-sway-shuffle of an octogenarian. Jens was far older than his fellow pilgrims, but despite his age, he was still a large man with broad shoulders and a strong back. He carried a small blue pack, but he wore no hat, and his face and scalp were dangerously red.
