a load off my mind

After exchanging a few emails with the remarkable Mr. Schafer, I agreed to pass along my early draft of The Wreck of the Mary Byrd this morning. I would have preferred to spend more time with it – cleaning it up, tweaking it madly, and making sure I love it – but he’s an understanding sort of guy, and he’s the boss. Therefore, Draft One is on its way to Subterranean Press as of about ten minutes ago..

Here’s the flappage I passed along on its behalf. I’m not perfectly happy with it, but right now, I’m not perfectly happy with anything (oh, those first draft blues!), but it’ll have to do:

    In 1870 the steamboat Mary Byrd vanished on the Tennessee River, somewhere between Chattanooga and Knoxville. No trace of the wreck has ever been found.

    But when an accidental discovery brings historic trinkets to light, a curious ecology student finds clues to an old disaster in the mud by the river’s edge.

    Not every passenger on the Mary Byrd was home or business-bound, and no one drowned, though all disappeared. The boat’s ruin was a caused by a violent creature with a terrible secret that must stay buried. For 140 years it has waited for the wreck to rise, and now it prowls the water’s edge—ready to kill again.

I’m trying not to fret over it. Instead, I should really be fretting over Not Flesh Nor Feathers. Now I get to return to writing that one – and the clock is ticking. God, I love deadlines. I’d never accomplish a damn thing without them.

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