V-Log: The State Of The #Scifi #Novel I’m #Writing As Of September 8th, 2018

by Shelton Bumgarner
@bumgarls

As an added bonus, here’s the first scene of the novel as it currently stands. It’s going to change dramatically going forward, but I’m such an extrovert, I can’t help myself and feel like giving you a glimpse of what the novel is going to be like.

Tagger Wendt began what would arguably be the most significant event day in human history to date in his late father’s home just outside the small town of Chatham, Virginia. To say he was at a crossroads in his personal life was something of an understatement.

Though 35 now, he’d lived a solid 10 years as an expatriate in Seoul, South Korea. He had squeezed the experience for every opportunity it offered. During the course of his decade in Asia, he’d grown to be a very large fish in the very small pond of the Seoul expatriate community. By the time he left upon learning of his father’s death, he had been in no particular order, a DJ, the lead singer of a rock band, a TV personality, a college-level English instructor, a magazine publisher and a writer for one of the two major daily English-language newspapers in the country.

His father’s death had been what he felt was a wake-up call. If he didn’t do something about his life now, he was destined to be one of those bitter expats that settled in Seoul who hated the place but never managed to leave.

Coming back to the States after such an adventure had immediately resulted in significant reverse culture shock. He just did not know what he could do next. He had half a mind to move to New York City and try his hand there, but he felt he needed to center himself for just a bit before attempting something so dramatic.

It was a lovely summer Saturday and old habits dying hard, he decided to do some day drinking. He remember that there was a great dive bar called Lee’s Retreat just across the border in North Carolina and he proceeded to make his way there. It took just about 40 minutes, but soon enough he was pulling into its driveway just about 11:30 a.m. July 1.

Lee’s Retreat had been a honkytonk 10 years ago and it appeared it still was. It was notorious for its Thursday night wet tee-shirt contests and shady cliente. But he was used to expat dive bars and so he felt quite at home as he passed its small open patio, pushed its front door open walked up to the bar and ordered a drink.

He took a moment to appraise himself in the mirror behind the bar. He was decent looking, at least in his opinion, though he had a bit of scruff on his face that gave him a slightly unkempt appearance. His black hair was short and he smiled back at his 6 foot self approvingly.

The TV news was on and had the usual mass chaos and natural disasters. He did notice, in passing there was mention of some unusual activity in the satellite graveyard high above the planet. He did not think much of it as he grabbed his whisky on the rocks and on a lark decided to mosey on out to the patio.

He was looking forward to a calm, relaxing afternoon of drinking.

Author: Shelton Bumgarner

I am the Editor & Publisher of The Trumplandia Report

Leave a Reply