The Poet’s Secret
About the Book
The Poet’s Secret is my debut novel. People “in the lit biz” tell me it is an “upmarket” suspense. The term “upmarket” means something between commercial and literary fiction, neither too low nor highfalutin, which seems about right. Here is a little teaser for you:
Elia Aloundra, a young lit student, sees a reclusive poet, Cameron Beck, recite a poem at a campus pub before he vanishes. Ten years earlier, Beck had published a popular collection of ninety-nine odes to one anonymous muse before dropping from the public eye, leaving behind a decade of speculation over his disappearance and the identity of the muse. Elia always found sanctuary within the pages of great books and raised Beck’s work into that pantheon, memorizing every verse by heart. But her love life has been paralyzed by the great romances of literature, and she sets off in search of Beck hoping to finally leap from the page and unveil love incarnate.
What she doesn’t know is that as her quest begins, Beck is perched atop a cliff on a remote Caribbean island and about to attempt suicide. Elia must win her way through Beck’s protective circle: Isabella, a robust island matriarch with heavy voodoo juju, Paco, a local fisherman and cantina owner, and Fatty, a burnt out, transplanted New Orleans crawdad of a doc. But what Elia cannot fathom is that Beck’s secret will change both their lives forever.
I am currently shopping agents and publishers.
About the Process
The tale that became The Poet’s Secret was conceived in a hovel perched atop a one-table taverna in the hillside village of Avdou, just a scooter ride from the blue waters of the Aegean on the island of Crete. I was sequestered alone, half-way around the world from my home, and recovering from a life, and a relationship, that had left me hollow, or at least I thought at the time. But it turned out words kept flowing out of me, first in raw, chunky verse that faintly resembled poetry and then in images and scenes that bore an even fainter resemblance to a novel. For months I wrote, swam in magical waters and disappeared into this remote, antiquated Greek village. I had never done anything like that before, but at the time it was the only existence that made any sense.
So many miracles happened during those months. I experienced a cleansing, a healing and an awakening, and I began to perceive light and water and imagery and words and the souls around me like never before. I eventually returned to California, and then traveled to Bali, Mexico, Costa Rica, Thailand, Cambodia and South America, following the sea and surf with laptop in hand and continuing to write.
When my first draft was done I wondered, what next? I had written a story that seemed like a deep cathartic pit of mush (probably like many first drafts, I suppose). Just about this time, and facing the prospect of either drowning in that mush pit or clawing out from it, I received a phantom invite to a writers conference. I still have no idea by whom I was invited, but I went. I trembled as I shared a couple of chapters and poems aloud. It was like dancing naked in front of strangers. But people actually liked the story and poetry. Agents requested the manuscript. But the glimpse of the craft of writing revealed at that conference convinced me there was more work to be done.
Alas, the patron saint of so many writers, Judy Reeves, came into my life. The first time I saw Judy there was an aura about her that remains to this day. Fate eventually led me into her Read & Critique group, affectionately dubbed the Wednesday Night Sorcerers. And better my manuscript got. When you read The Poet’s Secret you will find hints of my soul revealed throughout, but also little bits of all those who helped me along the way, particularly Judy and the Sorcerers. I humbly bow to them, as I also bow to you, the reader, who I hope will enjoy my story.
