Autumn

Autumn
James M M Baldwin
 
Gold leaves clatter on high perches.
Copper coins drift on cool breezes.
 
Red leaves uncover naked oak branches.
Yellow conceals forgotten summer trails.
 
Squirrels hiding acorns chatter at work.
Canadian geese gather honking flocks.
 
Dust clouds shadow tractors harvesting.
Cinnamon sugar sweetens hot cider.
 
Halloween hauntings scare little children.
Pumpkins carved into spooky jack lanterns.
 
Bountiful meals enjoyed in thanks giving.
Families rejoice in their reunions.
 
Autumn

Peace and love,
Jim

Black Elk

Black Elk
Tower of the Four Winds

James M M Baldwin
 
Tree lined pastures rise and crest.
Long white clouds drift unobstructed by blue-eyed-heavens.
Leaves shed sunlit tears across green grass.
Valleys fall to shaded floors deep below.
 
Well-trodden paths meander.
Tiresome climbs.
Leisurely descents.
Bumble bees chase overcurious onlookers from nectar laden blossoms.
 
Bark, gnarly with age, others tender and smooth.
More leaf shapes than most could ever know.
Some reaching high to drink in light.
Others content in their unassuming stature.
 
Multitudinous birdsongs flood clean air nestled between rolling hills.
Numerous flora aromas combine as one bouquet.
Blue jay wings flit unheard through branches.
Unseen insects orchestrate waving grasslands.
 
Sparrows flutter when the man enters their hidden meadow.
Shade welcomes weary travelers.
Smell of green hangs heavy.
Stop, rest, contemplate.

A train whistle blows hidden in the distance.

Peace and love,

Jim

James M M Baldwin, Sergio de Companion, Jim

It is said, science fiction and fantasy are two separate things. Science fiction; the improbable made possible. Fantasy; the impossible made probable. But what happens when you mix these two opposites? Rod Serling,Twilight Zone The Fugitive 7/9/1962

Born into this mixture between science fiction and fantasy, speculative fiction author James M M Baldwin persists in these endeavors to this day.

After writing three to six hours a night, six nights a week (never on a Sunday), for 15 years, (that’s approximately 21,000 hours), I took a break from writing. From Memorial Day, 2017 to Labor Day, I didn’t write a tittle or a toddle (or a title). I did participate in the Nebraska Writers Workshop’s June Bits of Scripts facilitated by Sally J. Walker. That was a big success this year.

Island of Magic

Portals of Erzandor

You’d think, with that many hours writing I’d have more to show for it. Beside the two novels; SPENCER MURDOCH AND THE PRORTALS OF ERZANDOR and SPENCER MURDOCH AND THE ISLAND OF MAGIC. Beside my science fiction short story collection;  ORION’S ARM: TALES FROM THE MILKY WAY. Beside my horror collection; BEYOND THE VISUAL CORTEX: TALES FROM THE INNER REACHES OF THE MIND. Beside and my long form poetry collection on mental health topics; MENTALCHAOS. Beside the situation comedy, MOCKINGBIRD HEIGHTS, written for the 2016 NWW Bits of Scripts (yes it’s true, sometimes I think I’m funny). And besides turning my short story DREAM HUNTERS into a feature length sci-fi/fantasy/horror script. Besides all that. There’s one thing I’ve accomplished more than any other; rejection.

Beyond the Visual Cortex

Orion's Arm

Pursuing traditional publishing is a tricky path. Convincing an agent or publisher to invest in you is somewhat of a catch-twenty-two. You can’t get them to notice you without a record of successful publishing, and you can’t get that record without getting published (to a certain extent). With that said, Mockingbird Heights’ failure to place in the 2017 Omaha Film Festival (I might not be as funny as I think I am) registered as my 213^th rejection.

I think I've earned a break.

Tatanka, Sergio de Companion

During my hiatus, I finished several large art projects painting under the brush-name Serio de Companion. (If you had read Spencer Murdoch and the Portals of Erzandor, you’d know I stole the name from my own writing.) As Sergio, working religiously every Sunday, I’ve completed hundreds of works, many abstract, recently swinging almost 180 degrees, creating my own lineal contemporary style. I’ve not started counting gallery rejections. Not yet. While continuing my lineal contemporary series, I’m adding a ledger art line matching historical event drawings with antique ledger paper from the same years. If you’re interested in ledger art, take a look at the great Don Montileaux’s website.

Sergio de Companion Ledger Art

Mental Chaos

Another thing I seem to be good at (whether writing or painting) is ideas. I have lots of ideas. I have more ideas than I have time. In my writing que are two more novels and another screen play, but next on my list is my second poetry collection (yet unnamed).

Bottom line, you’ll see more of me in the future. Whether as James M M Baldwin, Sergio de Companion, or just plain Jim, I’ll be lurking around somewhere. You may have to scan a few asteroids. 

Peace and love, brothers and sisters.

Jim

Word-Art

In my last post, I whined about having too many irons in the fire. I'm happy to report that I finished one of my projects. Last night I presented the poetry lesson on word-art at the Nebraska Writers Workshop. Here is the piece I created using the knowledge from the lesson.



Haida
Raven Tribe Raven Tribe
Ancient sea warriors
Canoes with sixty paddlers
Sixty Great canoes
Great canoes carved from single red cedars
Sixty canoes with sixty paddlers
3000 Raven warriors
3000 Raven warriors
Pike adorned Canoes
Pikes for the heads of my enemies
Their women and children my slaves
Two hundred thousand moons
My ancestors came
Over the water from the setting sun
Sixty-eight-thousand seasons
My ancestors came
Across the icy sea
Filling the red cedar forests
Trading with the eagle tribe
the sea lion warriors
the river people
My totems tell the story
The mother of my mother's mother
Mother From Inside the Glacier
From the Direction of the North Wind
My people came
Filling the islands
Do not resist
I strike with honor
With the outside Edge of a Branch
You will taste bitter water
I will burn your bones
I will paint your skull
with Raven tribe symbols
With symbols of the raven people
I will paint your skull
Paint your skull



That's one project down, 285 to go.
Next up, synopsis.

Too Many Irons in the Fire

Welp, I did it again. I sail along on a work in progress, Spencer Murdoch and the Island of Magic, while thoughts of other projects I want to write bounce around in my head. Then, I dabble on the other works and everything slows down. It's not the first time I've done this. I jus' cain't help it. Inspired by fellow poet and local, world-travelled professor David Prinz Hufford, rather than finishing the final edits on my latest novel, I wrote a Shakespearean sonnet. In preparation for an upcoming presentation on word art at the Nebraska Writers Workshop, I've delved deep into indigenous northwest art, particularly Tlingit and Haida. This highly stylized art form is poetry without words. Using inspiration from Michigan artist Keemo, my current favorite, I'm going to insert words into a Haida inspired painting.

Not only have I done numerous sketches for the painting's design, I've also gathered information for the poem, which I think will also be Tinglit and Haida inspired. The raven is and essential in their culture, so I almost feel compelled the add some kind of Edgar Allen Poe influence. Maybe even a little Lewis Carrol. I have a wonderfully energetic writer Annie Douglas Lima asking for an in depth interview. She has many good writing questions. I'll see what I can do to answer her. I'm writing a script about a high school class discussing TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD. And there's that pesky new round of query letters waiting to be written. Oh, and I took time out to write this blog just for you.
Speaking of you.
Do you ever get too many irons in the fire?
How does it affect your production?
Or, are you one that finishes a project before moving on?
Jim

Spots on Pluto

Spots on Pluto
James M M Baldwin

Pluto splashed his haunted mind
Onto the underworlds' souls

His Ambitions beaded on the surface until fermented
Hunting gateways through the thought fabric protecting inner layers

Inside, minuscule particles spread across a vast blue synapse expanse
Bit by bit, literary granules seep deeper

Wrapped in damp fog blankets
Gathering,
condensing into clouds
Forming puffy white images
floating
A bear
A lion
Growing darker
Growing larger
A dragon

Lightning bolts race from synapse to synapse
Thunder's rumble portends catastrophe

Teardrops fall on a windblown path
An explosion of understanding
Hitting fertile neurons
Gushing torrents

Nourishing the sapling as it sprouts and rises
Branching out, producing fruit

Aspiration achieved

Spotify Top 50 Rock (A Poem)

Next Wednesday I'll be presenting a poetry lesson on observations for the Nebraska Writers Workshop. The object of the lesson is notice unusual things in your surroundings. The observations won't necessarily become a poem but could wind up being just the right detail to get across a particular intention.

I love my Spotify. I listen to it almost every waking hour. I've discovered many new bands I otherwise would have never listened to. While listening to Spotify's current top 50 rock songs, I noticed how poetic all of the names of the songs, albums, and artists are. I know, that's kind of the point of music. But anyhow, I wrote them all down in the form of a poem to show you. Let me know what you think. Maybe next week I'll turn out a poem using titles from the top 1930's jazz recordings.

So, without any further ado

Spotify Top 50 Rock
James M M Baldwin

Hit the Lights, Bring Me the Horizon
Cried the Man Overboard
Drowning, Neck Deep in a Brand New All Time Low
A Low Lower than Atlantis

Spilling Royal Blood
Of The Earl of Grey
The Pale Emperor
As it is, All of Them Witches

I Survived the Great Flood
The Days of War
Play the Gaslight Anthem
Telling the Story so far of Three Days Grace

The Muse Refused to lose
Entering as Romans do, Breaking Benjamins
The Offspring Puppy of an Incubus in Early November
36 Crazyfists Carry the Fire of Jekyll and Hyde

Real Friends Finding Superheaven
With a Bullet for My Valentine
Perfecting the Art of Dying
What's Next?

With Next to Nothing
With no Way Out
When God Comes Back
With Lightning at the Door

Heavy is the Head in the Church of Noise
While She Sleeps Beyond the Gates
of a Broken Generation of Mice and Men
We Explode in Brainwashed Madness

Lonely the Brave
Sleeping With Sirens
Skeletons in the Gallows
Get Out of the Way

Feast and Famine
Time and Trauma
Man is not a Bird
Fly! Fly Like a Leaf

Rise Up, Set it Straight
Stay Vicious, Get Hurt
Move, Shake, Hide, Bloom, Breathe
Something's Gotta Give

Get Lost, Find Yourself
Find the Gold Hidden on the Black Map
On Backroads, On Sonic Highways
An Odyssey with No Way Out

Imbue the Great Beyond with Your Smile
Set me on Fire Between the Stars
I Don't Love you Anymore
Everything Will be Alright in the End

The World I Used to know
Is Coming for You
I Am Machine
No Mercy
*

Cover Reveal

Today is the reveal of the new cover for "Spencer Murdoch and the Portals of Erzandor."

Without any further ado.
Drum roll please.


A construction worker risks his family’s safety to fulfill a prophecy and stop a global storm ushering in the reign of an evil ruler. Spencer Murdoch unearths a supernatural portal and discovers an ancient being guarding a gateway between heaven and hell. Spencer must find the person chosen to enter the portal before a power hungry doctor can use it to release evil into the world.


James M M Baldwin writes speculative fiction with an interaction between spirituality, science, and humanity. His science fiction, fantasy, and horror writing interjects spiritual self-awareness and its influence on the natural environment and the universe. Adding to the relationship between human nature and enlightenment, the occasional rocket ship and alien creature color his imaginary worlds. James is an author, artist, poet, musician, and an avid bicyclist. He is an active participant in the Nebraska Writers Workshop and lives in Omaha with his wife and children, their dogs Flash and Waldo, cats Wink and Ash, and ferrets Merlin and Magic.


The new paperback version is smaller than the original with a more compact interior.
This version retains all of the original artistic interior details of the original, the smaller size combined with fewer pages allows me to offer it at a reduced price.
Although the official relaunch won't be for a couple more weeks, the book with the new cover is available now at the following outlets;
The book is available at Amazon in both soft cover and electronic versions. If you get the softer cover addition at Amazon, the Matchbook Program allows you to download the e-book for free.
You can also get the book direct from my CreateSpace store here.
For a limited time you can use discount code 4LY6WWV6 and receive an additional $2.00 of at my CreateSpace store.
You can get "Spencer Murdoch and the Portals of Erzandor" at the ridiculously low price of $8.99.
So don't delay. Get yours today.

I also want to thank the good folks over at Writely Designed for all their hard work creating a beautiful cover. Take a look at their design options for your latest project, please go here; http://bit.ly/1zw7qOE

Cover Reveal in One Week

Check here next Friday, April 24th, for the unveiling of the new cover of the second edition of “Spencer Murdoch and the Portals of Erzandor.” And don't forget to check out the designers over at Writely Designed who worked very hard creating the new design. Take a closer look at their design options here; http://bit.ly/1zw7qOE

Holed Up In the Bat Cave (Writing)

Yes, it's true. I've been absent. But trust me. it'll all be worth it. I'm holed up in the bat cave working on the next Spencer Murdoch novel tentatively titled "The Island of Magic." Stay tuned.
Peace
Jim

Song of Sappho

Song of Sappho
Six Sapphic Stanzas
James M M Baldwin


Waning lavender daylight colors your hair
Bluish purple locks envy of the violets
Purple curls charm Lydia’s renowned dyers
Lavender tresses

Petite Olive skinned loveliness unrivaled
Lips of gathered nectar from golden roses
Hypnotic umber eyes captivating gaze
Olive skinned beauty

Originator of celestial songs
Honored among the greatest lyric poets
Odes divine oh Sappho's songs from the tenth muse
Celestial songs

Poetic passion for all things beautiful
Love's infatuations unrequited
Aristocratic art of Socratic love
Poetic passion

Lyrics of the wind-shaken olive tree branches
Fair words produce unwakable comatose sleep
Poetic choruses awaken the dead
Lyrics of the wind

Sing a song of Sappho so that I may die
Athens' Solon desired her song more than life
Lyrics worthy of sacred admiration
So that I may die

Dialogue Excerpt from Chapter 2 of Spencer Murdoch and the Portals of Erzandor

In this excerpt from Spencer Murdoch and the Portals of Erzandor, Spencer is explaining to his friend and coworker Jack. Spencer notices a couple of strangers working in the field across from his house. I walks over to investigate and notices one of them has a gun. When Spencer sneaks away, something under an unusual bush by his house distracts him. Jack, who always has some wild theory, keeps throwing in his two cents worth.

(Jack asks.) “What do you mean ‘something under the bushes’?”

(Spenser replies. ) “Remember the flash I told you about. Well, there was this reflection, or a flicker of light, like somebody shined a flashlight in the corner of my eye. I don’t know what it was, and I’m not even sure why I care. I suppose it could’ve just been a trick of the light, but you should’ve seen it! I swear it had a direct connection to my thoughts. Like it was telling me everything will be all right.”

Jack stayed uncharacteristically quiet for a minute, before he offered his opinion. “I know what it was.”

“Okay genius, what was it?” Spencer knew one of Jack’s extraordinary explanations would follow.

“The two guys in the woods were probably aliens from another planet! And they didn’t have a regular gun; they had a mind control gun. They must have shot you with a thought ray and that’s what flashed. I bet you’re under their control right now. Yeah, if those two guys are as big as you say, and one of them had a name like Gustav, they have to be from another planet.”

Spencer grabbed his chin and looked down, pretending to consider the out-of-this-world theory. He went back to work without responding.

Jack continued to nudge him from his catatonic state. “They could have been ghosts! Yeah, that’s more likely than aliens. I bet they were ghosts. You’re probably under the influence of some supernatural force from a fourth dimension.”

After another make-believe thoughtful pause, Spencer still did not reply.

A few minutes later, Jack followed with yet another theory. “I know. I know what it was… Bigfoot! It must have been Bigfoot. You know Yeti. Sasquatch! The Abominable Snowman! Those two guys must have been Bigfoot hunters, and they didn’t want you moving in on their catch.”

Another short moment of silence followed before they both broke into laughter.

Spencer shook his head. “I’m glad you have it all figured out. Let me get this straight. You think the flash came from the ghost of an alien Sasquatch named Gustav, right?”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “It could happen.”

Read the entire scene and learn what it is Spencer saw under the bush in Spencer Murdoch and the Portals of Erzandor.

Get the book at these stores.
James M M Baldwin wix.com
Amazon
CreateSpace
And wherever books and ebooks are sold

Take a look at the scripted version in the video below. It shows the whole scene, so it starts a little before this dialogue. You can skip ahead to 2:04 or just watch the whole thing. The characters and setting are not accurate, but it captures the mood of the dialogue rather well.

Observing Jackson Pollock

Observing Jackson Pollock
James M M Baldwin

Swirling, dripping, drizzled color
Looming, high and wide
Lost within your intricacies
Overlapping blues and greens
Stepping close you fill my vision
Stepping closer I feel your process
Closer still, I smell the oils,
Turpentine, canvass
Texture, color, curves, spots
Within inches now, fingers twitch,
longing to touch
Over my shoulder
A security guard watches,
intently scrutinizing
I back away
Standing, gazing
Drinking in your wonder


Jackson Pollock Convergence
Albright–Knox Art Gallery
Buffalo, New York