Into the Night

I love Fridays!  I know that’s a common love, shared by most people who work a daily job away from the home.  I particularly love them because they mean the freedom to pursue my dreams.

How, you ask?  It’s really quite simple!  During the week, I put in a full, 8-hour (well, technically 10-hour, since that’s how long I’m away from the house… in fact, I do this blog from work, most mornings, after arriving early) day, go home, take care of my home and family (hubby and cat) and then, if I’m lucky (and not totally exhausted) I get one or two hours of writing done (or something writing connected, anyway).  But Fridays are great!  I can stay up all night, if I’m really on a writing jag, and I still have two full days of writing time (well, not ALWAYS…lol… sometimes, I have other things I have to do).  Anymore, the vast majority of my writing is confined to these two days… which I’m sure explains a lot for those of you who’ve been wondering why, in the last two years, my output has taken a nosedive (it’s an issue I hope to remedy soon enough… and that’s a tale for another day, as the saying goes!)

 Anyway, today promises to be a long one, here… maybe I’ll get the chance to hang out on my webboard a bit (*shh!* Promise not to tell!! lol)… If you want to know what that’s all about, you can check it out at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/emreadergroup  Yes, I do screen new members (this is merely to weed out bots and annoyances who want to tell you about their “great date” and how to make your di** bigger. Real people are typically always approved, so don’t be shy… and let me know that you found out about it from my blog!  You never know if I might be running a giveaway, or not!)

Do  you ever just sit and think about the past, and remember what was good, careful to skip over what was bad?  I do.

Recently, I was reflecting on my childhood, growing up overseas, and I realised what a wealth of happy memories I really have.  There are so many things I remember fondly, like Market Day in Bury St. Edmund, and days spent wandering the walkplatz and museums of Trier and Koln.  I remember being a child in England, entranced by the history of castles and burial sites, standing stones and Roman ruins, and I smile at the memory of counting each and every step to the top of York’s Keep.  Though it was also rife with sadness and trouble, I do recall fond moments of my journey from child to adult, living in the peaceful surround of a small German town.

There’s a large part of me that will always consider Europe home, even though I’ve been back in the US for well over a decade.  I embrace the future, for the wealth of lessons it can provide me, but I’ll never forget the past, or the equal measure of sadness and happiness it gave me.  I miss my home in England, and in Germany, but when I close my eyes, I can see it, as clear as the day I left, hear the sounds and smell the smells, and find comfort even when I’m feeling trapped by my current life and responsibilities. 

 I think it’s very important to have those memories.  To pick even a single day from childhood, which was perfect, wrap it up and tuck it away in the corner of your heart and mind, and when you’re having one of those days where nothing seems to go right, close your eyes, take it out, and find the peace and strength to go on.

May we all find and cherish our own better days.

I thought I’d cover some background on my Project Prometheus series, to give everyone a glimpse inside the workings of my mind (scary, I know! ….).

I’ve always been fascinated by mythology and the paranormal.  Even in my earliest memories, I was drawn to the so-called “supernatural.”  And the story of Prometheus resonates with me — sacrifice in the name of the greater good.  In 2001, terror and disaster struck the US, and the balance tipped toward darkness and evil, with the loss of so many lives.  And, when the first people blamed (even before “proof” existed) were the Arabs, based simply on racial prejuidice, I was outraged.  I have friends who have bled and died for their love of this country, and the protection of its citizens, who are Arab by birth, and Muslim by faith.  They are decent, loving people.  To see an entire people summed up in the actions of a few infuriated me, especially when I could look at the bigger picture, and see the strings being pulled from places far closer to home. 

Facing the well of hatred and darkness, I saw something else.  A spark of hope.  I was reminded of Prometheus, who dared the wrath of the Gods to bring light and healing to humanity.  And I saw others, within my mind’s eye… Men and women, dedicated to healing the horrors of the world, and shining the light of hope into its darkest corners.  Heroes who believe that their sacrifice is justified in the good they can do for someone else.  Mercenaries who work not for the traditional pay of the highest bidder, but who pledge their lives to a cause greater than any of us… and thus, the birth of Project Prometheus.

Originally, this organisation was to only have one book, taking place in the Middle East, and showing the courage and honour of a people badly maligned by the actions of small, radical groups.  But it quickly became obvious to me that Project Prometheus had a much bigger story to tell… One not easily confined to the pages of a single book.  So was born a series, which I hope you find both entertaining and inspiring.