There's a Lot More Creepiness Below

Have you read Children of the Mechanism? It seems to be one of my more consistently read and appreciated novels. When I created the weird, dark factory world of the novel, there was a lot I thought about but didn't have a reason to delve into during the story. There's some very strange stuff going on throughout that mysterious factory.

Well, I'm slowly working my way through the sequel. It doesn't even have a title yet. It's just called Children of the Mechanism 2, and I'm going rather slow because I have another full-time job that gets in the way. However, I've churned out five solid chapters. Maybe you'd like to read the rough opening paragraphs? Okay, why not? Here you go:

Children of the Mechanism 2

Chapter One: The Bones Under the Bed

“Never open that door,” the old father said, tipped to one side on his chair, the loose skin of his jowls quivering as he struggled to sit up. “Never open that door, Gis, not for any reason, not for anything in the world.”

The incessant, rhythmic tapping from the end of the hall continued unabated, every metallic clank climbing Gis’s spine and settling at the base of his skull until he could scarcely stand it. The sound had begun in the middle of lunch and continued now long after he’d tossed the residue of the old father’s food into the Refuse Hole. Would it never end?

“But, Father, who is doing this?” Gis asked. “Who is making the terrible sound?”

The old father finally managed to sit up, flopping back against the high headrest of the chair. With a shaky hand, he pushed his wispy white hair back against his skull. His robe hung loosely these days, like a big blanket draped over his shoulders. Gis was tempted to believe the old father changed clothes at night while the children slept, gradually putting on bigger and bigger robes, but he knew this wasn’t the case. The ancient food stains on the front of the robe were the same as ever, years of dribbled meat juice soaking into the gray fabric.

“Listen to me carefully, Gis,” the old father said, dragging his bent fingers through the wild spray of his white beard. “There is something very dangerous on the other side of that door. That’s why we never open it. That’s why we never even touch it.”

“But, Father, you told me the door can’t open,” Gis said, lingering in the entryway of the old father’s bedroom, idly dragging his heel against the smooth carpet. “You said it’s not a real door. You said it many times.”

“I’m just trying to keep you away from it, Gis. I will say whatever I must say to keep you away from it.”

The tapping stopped for a moment, and Gis breathed a sigh of relief. It was like the sudden end of a long nightmare. But then it started up a moment later, and all of his nerves were immediately on edge. He wanted to claw at something, to dig into his own skin, to bite the carpet, or break one of the old father’s dainties on the shelves. 

Tap-tap-tap, like metal against metal. Gis couldn’t stand it. He hated it more than he’d hated anything since the Many Deaths.

“But what if this sound never stops?” he said. “How will we…?” How will I not go crazy? How will I not pull the rest of my teeth out and throw myself into the Refuse Hole?

+ + +

There you go. One of these days, the sequel will be ready. In the meantime, if you haven't read the original, check it out by clicking the image: 

Before Mary Was Novelized

Before I wrote my first novel Mary of the Aether, I wrote a short story version of it. That short story was purchased for a Young Adult anthology, but the anthology never made it to print. I'm not sure what went wrong, but the short story just languished in limbo, and eventually, the idea evolved and became my first novel.

You can read that original short story on Futurism. If you've read the novel, you'll notice some distinct differences. 

Check it out here.

There is one line in the short story that I wish I'd included in the novel series somewhere. It's something Mary says to her bullying friend:

“Someday, when you’re no longer a child, you’ll understand what you’re saying,” Mindy said. “Someday you’ll understand who you’re talking to. Someday. For now, it’s alright. I understand, and I don’t hold it against you.”

More on the Mary of the Aether series here.

Mary Is Back Again for the First Time

My four-book Mary of the Aether series has had such a long, strange publication history, it's amazing that anyone has been able to find and read it. I wrote the first draft of the first book way back in 2009. In fact, I wrote it so long ago that it was actually technologically outdated. The characters were using flip phones. I mean, other than drug dealers, who uses a flip phone in 2018?

I sold the first book to an indie publisher called Whiskey Creek Press in 2011 and it hit the market in July 2012. Getting that first big box of books was a great feeling, even if I was concerned about the low-quality paper that caused the paperbacks to crumble into oblivion after the very first reading. In the summer if 2013, Mary of the Aether was included on a recommended reading list for Arkansas teachers and received a bunch of free publicity at a regional common core workshop. This resulted in me doing a bunch of creative writing workshops and book readings at schools and libraries.

In the meantime, I churned my way through the entire series, writing three sequels and bringing the series to a dramatic conclusion with Mary of Cosmos. Just as the fourth book reached its publication date, Whiskey Creek Press announced that they were folding up shop and selling their catalog to a company called Start Media. Only select authors were offered contracts by Start, myself included. I made a whopping $200 on the deal. Fortunately, I invested that $200 in an exciting multilevel marketing opportunity and it paid for my fleet of tricked-out Honda Accords.

Just kidding. I did take the $200, as did many (but not all) authors from Whiskey Creek Press. Then the awful silence of God descended upon the earth. Start Media acquired the catalog of books, put out their own versions, and that was it. They didn't do much in the way of publicity. Oddly, they actually introduced some formatting problems to Mary of the Aether, which already had a few typos and formatting problems from Whiskey Creek Press.

Fun times.

Eventually, things got a little bit exciting. Simon & Schuster, the big-time publishing house, bought Start Publishing, which meant my Mary of the Aether series was available on the Simon & Schuster website (ebook only). This should have been a big deal, but sales were as close to negligible as possible without being nil. Also, there was this weird thing that happened where the first three books of my series were listed on one webpage (out of order) while the fourth book was listed on a different webpage. Despite numerous emails, I was never able to get anyone at Simon & Schuster to fix this problem.

Funner times.

This year, I finally reacquired the rights to the whole darn series and decided to self-publish. This gave me a chance to go back through the manuscripts and tidy things up a bit. I corrected the typos and formatting problems introduced back in the day. I streamlined some clunky prose in a few places, added a few small scenes that I felt were lacking, and turned those outdated flip phones into modern smartphones.

Ironically, self-publishing is probably the best thing that has ever happened to the series. Sales for the new and improved self-published version of Mary of Aether are better than they have been in years. The first volume, in particular, is on its way to becoming my second most consistent seller, after Children of the Mechanism.

Things are looking up for good ol' Mary Lanham and her buddies the Devourers.

After finishing her work on Mary of Cosmos, my first editor raved about the series. In one of her final emails to me, she wrote the following:

I have to tell you, I have LOVED working on this series. It is one of my absolute favorites! I could definitely see this series doing well if it just catches on like it should!

Other than the initial interest back in the summer of 2013, maybe it finally has a real chance. People are reading it. If you haven't given the series a chance, let me entice you to do so now with the following review comments for the series:

"Jeffery Aaron Miller once again uses his unique knack for writing about other worlds to draw you in and to have you totally engaged in the story. Jeffery is a wonderful writer who can take you to a fantasy world yet still keep you in touch with the real world and its own conflicts. Mr. Miller just has the knack or ability to create these other worlds that are mixed with our own world, and yet the issues of growing up in this world, poverty, and unpopularity, are intertwined with the lofty goals of the other world. There is so much in his storytelling to admire and to recognize for the youth of today. I find his writing and storytelling abilities to be fascinating."     

--Readers' Favorite.

"I found this book to be absolutely brilliant! After the first couple of pages it really picked up, and I could hardly put the book down as I felt like I, myself, was in the book alongside Mary!"  

--Flamingnet Teen Book Reviews

"The story was fresh, the plot nicely paced, and the characters unforgettable!" 

--BTS Book Reviews

Okay, ladies and gentlemen, now's your chance to check out the series. Will it be among the best experiences you've ever had in your entire life? I can't say for sure, but why don't we find out? Here is everything you've been waiting for. 

A Sequel to Shadows of Tockland

Yes, I am slowly creating the sequel to Shadows of Tockland. I say slowly because I am super busy at my real job, but occasionally I find time to whittle away at the story. I've written roughly 127 pages of the first draft. I shouldn't give anything away at this point. Suffice it to say, the story finds our intrepid Klown Kroo getting up to some dangerous shenanigans, thanks in large part to the ridiculous behavior of two specific members of the troupe.

Is that vague enough? Perhaps the opening paragraph will wet your whistle. Here it is:

David Morr brushed aside the tiniest curtains in the world, gazed through a window covered in muddy handprints, and saw a naked, pink monster writhing on an orange wool rug. He watched as the nameless animal clawed at its own belly and chest, a glistening tongue poking out from between generous lips to lap at the air. David grunted in disgust and let the curtains fall back into place, but still he saw it in his mind’s eye, all that yardage of hairless skin, the great heaps and mounds of it, distorted into abstract shapes like melting mountains. 

There you go. I'll keep plugging away at the novel. In the meantime, if you haven't read the first book, make it happen. If you have read the first book, read something else, like THIS or THIS or THIS.

Thanks!


Jeff