WE'RE ON CREATESPACE AND AMAZON!!!!!

So this just happened:

https://www.createspace.com/5724559?ref=1147694&utm_id=6026

&

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0155RJMG0

Now it's available on all platforms around the world! This is crazy. I know these past few posts have been few and far in between, but I just want to let you all know that I'm still here, just more focused on other things like school and publishing this book. Things are REALLY looking up now!
See you in the sunlight!!

-Zach

These are crazy times

Before the cover for the book was posted on Facebook, the page for my book was very small, only at 69 likes and little amount of quality content.
Then my cover maker, Ros Welpy, sends me the cover and I immediately post it online as the official cover.
Now the page grew to 109 likes and over 2500 people have been reached. This is actually happening. I can't believe that this is happening. In going to be a published author by the end of the summer, G-d willing. This is a dream come true for me. It's just so exciting to be reaching so many people and telling them a story I hope they will never forget. Right now my amazing editor, Lane Ashfeldt, is working on the final draft of the manuscript and hopefully we'll be done by the end of July to release it in August as an eBook. I'm so excited to release it. Maybe I'll stream the release or something exciting like that. When everything is ready, I'll post up more info- when it's being released, where it'll be available, how big it is, what's next etc.
Thanks for the support and see you in the sunlight!
Zach

The next step... As of now.

So now that the euphoria of finishing is gone, I can get down to further business than I ever did before (including writing more content for the blog... but that's just me).
I now have an editor helping me put the finishing touches on the manuscript and a cover artist helping shape the book's face. We're all working pretty quick as we're planning to get this book released by early August (YES YOU HEARD ME RIGHT. THIS BOOK IS COMING OUT IN AUGUST).

For now, that's all I know. If you have any questions, write them in the comments. Otherwise, as of now, I won't be posting any more of the book onto this site, at least up until the end of part I. Not to hurt you, just to keep the appetite there so you can get it for cheap on eBook marketplaces.

Thanks for sticking with me up until this point and see you in the sunlight!!

-Zach

FINISHED DRAFT #4

I don't know where it will go from here, but as of now, at 68,049 words, Second to the Right is officially DONE! It took a long time to get to this point, and I feel blessed for having gone through this process from page 1 to 264.

The craziest part of this whole process is how I remember first starting to write this in college (I'm still there). Now I'll have published something by the time I graduate. This is spooking me out, especially now that I'm many steps closer than I was before.

While London Slept- Chapter 12

He was the only awake man on the street this side of the river Thames. Even the policemen stopped their rounds, some earlier than others to escape the rain. London was asleep for a short time back then, with the early risers getting up in two hours. Yet Father Kenneth couldn’t wait for the rain to stop. He was told so long ago to meet at a certain dock that morning, rain or not. He tried in vain to keep his entire body dry, but by the time he reached the dock, his pant cuffs and feet were soaked.

He was so worried about getting shelter, he had forgotten how majestic his old ship looked. The Jolly Roger swayed gently in the water, shaking off the rain like it was a huge dog. Its sails were neatly wrapped against the masts and twenty cannons contained by heavy wooden windows. There were a few men on the deck as Father Kenneth boarded the ship; three sweeping the deck with brushes and whatever soap was left, two more outside the door he was heading towards. He expected trouble as he reached it, but as they stopped him, all they said was: “You be early. Wait ‘ere.”

After a few minutes, the guards let him into the Captain’s quarters. Since he had been gone, it had gone into serious disrepair; it smelled of rotten fish and rust, and a film of dust and tarnish covered all the metal objects in the captain’s cabinets, including a particular hook meant for a big fish or a wrist.

“Sit down, Mr. Smee”

The dry call from the captain caught his attention. He was sitting there, gaunt and fierce with large fingers crossed in front of him on the ornate desk. There were maps strewn across the surface of the desk, weighed down by two compasses, one to see directions and another to draw them.

He took a seat opposite his younger captain. He was a boatswain to his father as well, and he alone knew how alike they were.

“How’s the mission going? Better yet, the ‘Pan’ boy. How are his studies going along?”

In a deep corner of Smee’s mind, he had been preparing the answers. In fact he sealed himself up in his room to prepare them.

“Very well, Captain. In fact, I broke him quite easily. I thought it would be harder, given the Latin I forced him to study at an early age-”

“I see,” Captain Hook interrupted, “So he’s at the orphanage, being kept there like a caged animal ready to be put down?”

Smee looked back at him with a new glint in his deep blue eyes; one with a smile.

“Yes, sir. Ready for you like a fatted pig.”

“That’s not what I think.”

What had gone into him? Was it the rotten smell?

“Captain, with all due respect, I think the smell in this cabin has clogged your senses. Might I open up a window…?”

“It’s not the smell, Smee!”

The captain got up from his seat, knocking it on its side and made Smee stand up in alarm, his smile fading slowly.

Captain Hook bent down and lifted a small chest onto the desk. It was squirming slightly, vibrating on the table.

“Explain THIS!”

Smee’s smile turned to utter confusion. “Captain, sir… I don’t- I don’t know what that is-”

“THIS,” the Captain began, his rugged finger pointed directly to the chest, “holds the boy’s shadow! Caught in the marketplace, near our little informant, not too far away from your little orphanage!”

Smee’s confusion got mixed up in a loss for words. The cold, conniving man was reduced to a bumbling idiot with one fowl contradiction.

“That means your STAR pupil is on the loose! And you thought you could get away with that alibi?! You are a LIAR!”

Smee took affront to that. “A liar?! Now, I’m anything BUT! The last time I saw him was at the orphanage.”

Captain Hook wasn’t convinced. “Did you check his bed before you left?”

Smee hadn’t thought of that.

“Smee, you didn’t think that maybe you could’ve brought him to me tonight and ended your job quicker?”

“Was that the actual plan, Captain?”

Captain Hook was staring wide-eyed at his incompetent boatswain. His anger reached the highest tolerance.

“That was absolutely the plan! He was supposed to be old enough to know who he was. I told you to bring him if you saw fit! You could have ended your façade tonight, and had enough time to make it back to Neverland for tea!”

The Captain set his chair back up and swept some dirt off his shoulders.

“But no matter. It is not all lost. We still have his shadow. And he’ll be weak-minded without it. Once he comes to retrieve it, he’ll finally be in our grasp with no other choice in the matter.”

He turned to his boatswain, who still shook in embarrassment.

“Go back to your flock and keep them in line, Father Smee. Never mind your failure, but we will be here every night until the deed is done. You are to be here every night as well. You are still responsible to find out where he is if you want to have a clean record again. Dismissed, Mr. Smee.”

Father Kenneth pushed his chair in and bade his captain farewell before he disappeared into the early morning.

If you were up during that hour, you would have seen a massive brig raise itself up into the early morning sky and be convinced that you were daydreaming again.

Chapter 11

David slipped through the alleyways, making every sharp turn possible, until he was sure the guards wouldn’t find him, or even catch up. As he stopped to take a breather, he realized that he had no idea where he was going. As exhilarating as it felt to escape into this side of the orphanage, this was all new to him. Even the streetlamps, dark and asleep during the day, looked like they were staring at him, trying to make sense of him. He had to get out of there fast, but he couldn’t back track. The Orphanage was somewhere back there. So he kept moving until the sun was way past the horizon, making any turn that didn’t lead to a dead end and any attempt at using the stars for navigation.

Yet the stars led him to a familiar place; a street corner near the…theater. The theater! Where the play was! Where he found Neverland… Wait! Ichabod must be nearby!

Last time he was here, they had rushed back home together so fast that he barely remembered how to get back. But small things lit his way; a streetlamp, a familiar flowerpot in the windowsill, an odd looking wooden door, and then the familiar street sign that hung in front of the store’s alleyway. While it could have been easier to just knock on the front door, next to the store’s window, he decided to surprise him. He past the alleyway entirely and found one of the shortcuts he had found with Oliver before, and entered the garden, lit by a sole lamp whose orange light towered over the whole place and shone like a second sun. As bright as the sun in the garden was, it didn’t shine on the burly looking men knocking on the other door.

He rapped at the door on the other side, to the dismay of the owner inside. The boy heard the usual grumblings of the old man coming, the creaking of the wood underfoot coming closer to the entrance. But unlike what he expected, Ichabod only opened the door a crack.

“Who is- David?! What are you doing here?!”

This took him aback.

“Uh… Ichabod?”

He saw that the old man looked urgent, the streetlight glinting off of his urgent eyes and their supporting bags.

“Get out of here! Go! Before you’re caught! They came for you! GO!”

David’s eyes grew with his curiosity. One the other hand, his mind was begging his body to move.

“Ichabod, what’s going on?! Why are you-”

Then the old man, in a flash of epiphany, retreated inside the store.

“There’s no…time to lose. Where is it? Wait there a moment… I have something to give you… Ah! Here it is!”

He stuck his head out of the crack of the door again, this time holding a sheath.

“You earned this sword. Use it to defend yourself. Now, get out of here! Go!”

As he turned away from the old man one last time, he could have sworn he heard the man say, “Fly, son of Pan!”, before the other door burst open.

The burly men, dressed in ripped sailor uniforms and mismatched garments from every corner of the world, sprinted through the store, knocking Ichabod away and bursting into the courtyard, only to find a small boy running to the exit. Their target was getting away.

David looked back to see the two men charging towards him, at a supernatural pace. They looked strange, like the pirates from the play, and were gaining on him fast. The light was behind them, so he couldn’t tell if they were armed, yet they would’ve shot him if they had guns. He had no chance but to face them. He tied the hilt to his waist and unsheathed the sword. The blade was light and slick, the hilt a worn-out wooden finish that seemed to grow onto the metal and leave intricate markings running up to the tip. It would have to do, even though David would rather keep it beautiful.

He took the stance Ichabod taught him while they lunged at him in unison. The one on the right jumped first, arms outreached without any weapon; they were trying to take him alive. That burly man would be the first target.

He ducked down underneath his jump arc and slashed at the man’s arm, landing on his right forearm and slicing as hard as he could. The blade whizzed so fast he heard it whistle subtlety as he felt it strike true. The man tumbled awkwardly in front of him, gripping his bloody arm. The other man, slightly leaner but more patient, unsheathed his own sword and reached the boy. Their blades met in a thunderous collision, reflecting the streetlight like it was lightning. They each gained momentum over the other and then lost it. For the pirate, this boy was someone special. No amount of training could have prepared him for this.

But then David started feeling tired. After not eating since the sun was in the sky, his body was running on something other than adrenaline. Not only that, but they both knew that David’s high from beating the other pirate was wearing off; he was feeling afraid. David had to get out of there- fast.

He turned the pirate away from the exit of the courtyard, pushing him far enough to have a head start to get out of there and hide. The first second he was able to leave, he turned away from the fight and started a mad dash to the exit. The man tried to slash at him, only to hit the ground where the boy had stood a second before. But he hit something else that was just as important. Yet David didn’t know that as he forced his body to rush forward into the dark London ahead, which was covered in storm clouds and a big chance of torrential downpours.

By the time he checked his surroundings, it felt like he had been running all night long. The only light came from the windows and occasional streetlights, the skyline covered up by dark clouds and flashes of lightning.

Then there was a gap in the storm, about as wide as David’s fist, like a portal through the clouds. Brilliantly lit stars glowed through the hole like diamonds on black fabric. Yet it wasn’t long before, in that hole in the sky, he saw something new; a brilliantly lit comet streaked across the sky and left a brilliant tail of light and a look of awe on his face.

He thought that he read somewhere that if one sees something like that, they should make a wish in a special poem, so it will understand. Who knew, maybe it was a fairy in disguise? Or maybe that’s what second to the right was, where you went to visit Neverland; the name of a star!

He looked through the hole again, with its shimmering lights and distant moonlight shining through onto the street, closed his eyes and, with a deep breath, made his wish:

Second to the right, shining bright, won’t you grant my wish tonight?

If I can’t find Peter Pan, help me get to Neverland.

He stood there and watched the hole close up as it passed over him, satisfied that he took the opportunity to make his first wish since his last birthday. He hoped this one would come true; last time he had wished for his own bicycle.

“You, boy! Who are you and where did you come from?”

Was that…the man from his dreams?!? The boy froze before slowly turning around to see who it was. It was site both calming and fearful. A policeman, heavyset with a small beard, slowly approached the boy as he pointed his baton.

David didn’t give himself time to think. He ran for it, zooming down the street away from him. The policeman didn’t have a chance, and David passed the corner and over the bridge even after he realized that. Meanwhile, the sky became dark, as drops of rain hit the ground. The policeman turned away to go look for some shelter.

But David kept running, and never looked back to see if he was near. The sky rumbled, more rain came down, yet David kept running. The rain became a downpour; he kept running. He wasn’t even running from the law anymore; he was running from his old life, from everything, and he would never want to go near there ever again.

He was so concentrated on running that it took a few blocks for David to realize his condition. His clothes were so soaked they stuck to his skin, water was inside his shoes, and he was freezing.

He was already sleep-deprived and starving. Now he was freezing. He needed some shelter, fast.

Then something kicked in. It He kept running past the similar looking houses until he found one that looked familiar, like he felt a pull towards it. It had a big arch over the door, beckoning him to seek some dry ground. So without a care in the world of being caught by a policeman, he stumbled up to the arch and collapsed onto the three stairs, the sensation of being somewhere dry exciting him just a bit. The moment after he sat on the three stairs, he felt a wave of sleep come over him. So poor lonely David, soaked and shivering, curled up and fell asleep the moment his head touched the top step.