Original dimensions: Physical: 36 in. x 24 in. Pixel: 10800 x 7200 Resolution: 300 DPI
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Original dimensions:

  • Physical: 36 in. x 24 in.
  • Pixel: 10800 x 7200
  • Resolution: 300 DPI

New Projects

I’ve started three new projects.

Normally I write short stories and regard each as their project. I can work on each as I go. However, none of these are short stories.

  1. A collection of poetry—I’ve always found my poetry wanting. Terrible stuff really. Focusing on a collection of just that, instead of padding pages would be welcome.
  2. Novel about a romance between two persons in a small town and the question of infidelity. It’s a bit personal, actually.
  3. Series of screenplays for a noir, crime series about a ex-spy, Penny, and her dead-beat, failed-detective husband, Armin. Funny stuff: sexy banter, musical sequences, clever ideas for scene blocking.

That’s all for now. Here’s hoping I can contribute something substantive—not just reheated cabbage with the same themes, tones, and characters I’m used to.

d.a. peters

Ship's Passing - Prints Giveaway

I’m running a giveaway: anyone who writes a review on Amazon.com for my new book, Ship’s Passing, can receive a color print from the text.

You can write anything, good or bad.

Ship's Passing: Selected Works -- Now on Amazon.com

Now in Paperback—for her pleasure.

Ship’s Passing is finished!

Finally!

Lulu misprinted the first proofing copy—which means free books. Muahahaha—-the first copy wasn’t even a legit one.
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Lulu misprinted the first proofing copy—which means free books. Muahahaha—-the first copy wasn’t even a legit one.

When I leave the bar, after the last call, I find myself pacing with a cigarette by the stop sign. I swing around it. I used to play with these as a kid—even drove me into physics in college. This is the axis, the fulcrum and I revolve around its center. When I stop, I imagine that the whole world wobbles around the pole and that I am not the one in motion. Give me a place to stand on, and I will move the Earth. I stop spinning and think about Ravi. There’s a rolling boil in my stomach. I want to cough it up. I settle for putting one hand through the plexiglas of a bustop window while the other covers my stomach. “I’m tired of this self-pity crap.”
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When I leave the bar, after the last call, I find myself pacing with a cigarette by the stop sign. I swing around it. I used to play with these as a kid—even drove me into physics in college. This is the axis, the fulcrum and I revolve around its center. When I stop, I imagine that the whole world wobbles around the pole and that I am not the one in motion. Give me a place to stand on, and I will move the Earth.
I stop spinning and think about Ravi. There’s a rolling boil in my stomach. I want to cough it up. I settle for putting one hand through the plexiglas of a bustop window while the other covers my stomach.
“I’m tired of this self-pity crap.”

90 Pages In…

Jigsaw puzzles are falling into place.

“My feet rest on a milk crate. Inside, my girlfriend, Tzi, is putting her son to bed. The Arizona sun sets out near Jerome and a clear yellow ribbon bundles the horizon. I-17 murmurs by, like an inebriate in the back of a bar. Glinted howls of coyotes drive quarry forward. There’s an engine block lifted on empty telephone spools next to the doghouse made from mortar, beer cans, and cinderblocks. I look at my shirt, grease stains from the night shift at Denny’s covering it like an old world map in a Hemingway novel—broken but recognizable.” -“Bad Faith” excerpt from Ship’s Passing [selected works]
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“My feet rest on a milk crate. Inside, my girlfriend, Tzi, is putting her son to bed. The Arizona sun sets out near Jerome and a clear yellow ribbon bundles the horizon. I-17 murmurs by, like an inebriate in the back of a bar. Glinted howls of coyotes drive quarry forward. There’s an engine block lifted on empty telephone spools next to the doghouse made from mortar, beer cans, and cinderblocks. I look at my shirt, grease stains from the night shift at Denny’s covering it like an old world map in a Hemingway novel—broken but recognizable.” -“Bad Faith” excerpt from Ship’s Passing [selected works]

Wrote a half dozen pages in bed—time for the morning rush of oatmeal, chai and creative to finish.
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Wrote a half dozen pages in bed—time for the morning rush of oatmeal, chai and creative to finish.