There’s a secret in the wood near Purdy Farm. Older than the
hills. Older than the sky.
The Man in the Rock knows the secret. But the only creature
who can hear him talk is Jarrod, and no one listens to him. Jarrod the Magpie. Jarrod
the Distant. Jarrod the Murderer. Everyone’s seen the blood on his wingtips.
Everyone knows he sent his own Rebekah to her doom. And those who don’t see the
blood? Aloysius the badger tells them. He saw Rebekah die. He saw his own Landi
die. He saw the shores of the beaver ponds, smeared with blood, littered with
grimacing, cold faces. He spreads the tale to all who’ll listen. And many who’d
rather not hear it at all.
And The Lady is coming. The Lady who causes marigolds to
sprout where she walks; the same who brings the ice, the cold, the dark and
lightning and who quiets the creatures who dare seek the joy promised long ago.
Her stooges are legion – sneaking, digging, seeking. They’re looking for the
guardian of the secret, the secret that will set The Lady free forever.
Jarrod seeks hope among the creatures of the wood who shun
him as he, too, seeks the secret to stop The Lady’s return and to clean his
tarnished feathers. His allies are few, frightened, flighty. And Jarrod seeks
forgiveness from Aloysius, companion of youth, soured by the bloody events in
the box canyon where so many died.
Hope arrives with the flocks of sparrows that also fill the
wood and sky – sent by he who notes their fall. Doom arrives with a cold that
seeps through the tunnels, killing trees, killing the diggers, filling the
creek bottoms with fog and despair. Jarrod the Murderer and his band of crows must
discover the secret if they are to stand between their beloved wood and a
conflict as old as the world itself.
This is the world of DOLEFUL CREATURES, a 90,000-word
fantasy inspired by the writings of Robert C. O’Brien and Walter Wangerin, Jr.
DOLEFUL CREATURES is my debut novel, written after more than 40 years of
reading fantasy novels and figuring out what I love about them.
NOTE: This is an attempt at a query for DOLEFUL CREATURES, my current WIP. I've got a lot of work to do on the book, but I'm hoping honing a query will help me gain additional focus on the story.
There’s a secret at Purdy Farm. Older than the hills. Older
than the sky.
The Man in the Rock knows. But the only creature who can
hear him talk is Jarrod, and no one listens to him. Jarrod the Magpie. Jarrod
the Distant. Jarrod the Murderer. Everyone’s seen the blood on his wingtips.
Everyone knows he sent his own Rebekah to her doom. And those who don’t see?
Aloysius the badger tells them. He saw Rebekah die. He saw his own Landi die.
He saw the shores of the beaver ponds, smeared with blood, littered with
grimacing, cold faces. He spreads the tale to all who’ll listen. And many who’d
rather not hear it at all.
And The Lady is coming. The Lady who causes marigolds to
sprout where she walks; the same who brings the ice, the cold, the dark and
lightning and who quiets the creatures who dare seek the joy promised long ago.
Her stooges are legion – sneaking, digging, seeking. They’re looking for the
guardian of the secret, the secret that will set The Lady free forever.
Jarrod seeks hope at the farm that shuns him as he, too,
seeks the secret, hoping to stop The Lady’s return and to clean his tarnished
feathers. His allies are few, frightened, flighty. And Jarrod seeks forgiveness
from Aloysius, companion of youth, soured by the bloody events in the box
canyon where so many died.
Hope arrives with the flocks of sparrows that also fill the
wood and sky – sent by he who notes their fall. Doom arrives with a cold that
seeps through the tunnels, killing trees, killing the diggers, filling the
creek bottoms with fog and despair. Jarrod the Murderer and his band of crows stand
between his beloved wood and a conflict as old as the world itself.
This is the world of DOLEFUL CREATURES, a 90,000-word
fantasy inspired by the writings of Robert C. O’Brien and Walter Wangerin, Jr.
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