There is something talismanic about the number 7. Do you believe this is a lucky number? Do you believe in numerology? I have a repetitive love of the number 8 . . . the infinity thing. Life.
I’ve been tagged before, nominated for blogging awards, and, once, was even handed a Manly Man Award ~I blushed and accepted that golden statue of a platter of chicken wings with as much macho swagger as I could conjure up — I took pointers from Eartha Kitt’n to master that particular walk — & after the award ceremony finished I went home and leapt about with Kipling and Zippy~ and I know I’ll never achieve such heights again no matter how hard I try, but try I must. Here is a photo of Lyda Blue Heron flying away from Zippy.
So, both Tonya Cannariato, the swift herder of Huskies, and Dionne Lister, the Tasmanian Speedster, got close enough to tag me with the 7 don’t-break-the-chain Game, and it would be doubly unlucky of me to let time pass and not fulfill the promise of such a showcase-ready event. Here are the rules which I will change slightly:
Go to page 7 or 77 in your current manuscript
Go to line 7
Copy down the next 7 lines as they are (no cheating)
Tag 7 other authors
Since I was tagged twice I will give you 7 lines from my first two books and include the mock-up covers (I am tinkering around with all aspects of the covers to both books) . . . I begin the 7-Tag with my first eBook Sandcastle & Other Stories. This book is a series of ten short stories and will come out at the end of April, 2012. These stories have grown deeper over time and mean a lot to me. The book is dedicated to my parents.
Here are the 7 lines I found on page 77 of Sandcastle and Other Stories from the short story Poseidon Eyes, a tale of a woman who refuses the advances of a certain sea god:
Then a picture forms across the wall and I watch as a younger Melanie, a teenager again, runs along blinding white beach searching for her own mystic entrance to the water. She dances with the edge of the surf, and finally wades in up to her waist. Letting the waves bob her gently back and forth, she coasts along the shore almost out of reach from the undertow. Thinking: come and get me — try to find me, in and out, in and out, bobbing along, belly hovering with surf, rising with the crest, gliding effortlessly, the bubbles dipping and ladling her out farther, passing the line of undertow. Saying: catch me by the ankles and pull me deep where I won’t have to watch anymore, see the world through my Poseidon eyes. She swims out farther with the waves calling her back as they pass in the opposite direction: you must not, you break our rhythm, you will find nothing, pleading with whitecaps, speeding towards the beach to ricochet and journey back with her.
Here is the mock-up cover art for Sandcastle and Other Stories:
You’ll notice a change in pen names here in this post from one book to the next, but Wake Me Up will get the new name change, from G. Justin Bogdanovitch to plain old Justin Bog, once the book comes out in November 2012 (barring any gremlin and goblin Halloween pranks). I love Bogdanovitch — it means ‘gift from God’ or approximately that — but Bog says it all; it’s easy to pronounce, spell, and remember, and, besides, that’s what friends call me, Bog, Boggy, J Bo . . . just don’t call me late for dinner, yuck yuck.
Here are the 7 lines I found on page 7 of Wake Me Up, a tale of a horrific crime and how this crime changes one family in Missoula, Montana:
The name calling breaks my stare and I get one more look into Ellis’s shadowed face before one of them punches me in the stomach and I huddle over clutching from the blow. All my oxygen disappears and I stumble onto my knees sucking wind, spittle, and rain as the second bully hits me with the bat. I see it coming and try to deflect it with my right arm and the bat crushes my elbow and I see brilliant flecks and sparks of light and an overpowering blackness for a split second. The pain is enormous and I struggle to remain aware as the bat passes to someone else. I don’t know who has the weapon now but when I open my eyes I’m on my knees searching for Ellis.
Earlier that very morning, I watched Ellis dress in gym class — not blatant about it either; I took covert, microsecond peeks, as all the kids bumbling about in the early morning did. His aloofness brought people to him, his good looks being judged on a higher scale — and not just by me; his newness was not off-putting; he made friends at an enviable rate.
Here is the mock-up cover art to Wake Me Up:
Now I must fulfill my end of this 7 game and tag 7 others, and, to quote Dionne: eenie, meenie, minie, moe:
1: Cathy Dreyer (payback hehe)
2: Angela Scott (great to choose from your new book)
3: Charity Parkerson (because the sentences you choose will surely delight)
4: Damien (newbiewriters podcaster supreme will have to dust off that tome and put 7 sentences together)
5: Catharine Bramkamp (the publisher and producer of newbiewriters and one cool cat with novels to share)
6: Jessica Kristie (the poetry master can share the best lines of wonder)
7: Eden Baylee (who is working on a new book)
Please click on each member of the lucky 7 to visit wondrous blog worlds. Who knows where the gang of 7 will take us next?
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