On Tuesday, August 19th, I'm the guest blogger on Terry O'Dell's blg. Find out what the strangest thing I did in the name of research, what kitchen utensil I would be, and what's on my desk? If you like to read about the writing life, this will be the place. See you then! Terry's Place
And more news: My latest novel, Festival Madness, is only 99 cents as an ebook on Amazon from August 17 - August 24th. Writing as Judith Copek. The novel is partially set at the Burning Man Festival as well as in Boston and the Adirondaks, and in honor of Burning Man I'm offering an ebook everyone can afford--one week only.
Stop by Terry's blog and grab a copy of Festival Madness for your e-reader and we'll be BFF.
Sorry to have neglecting this blog, but I've been writing and more writing and hosting endless company and cooking up a storm and gardening--all not conducive to blogging. You can also read my Proust blog at Reading Proust in Foxborough.
Showing posts with label description of Burning Man. Show all posts
Showing posts with label description of Burning Man. Show all posts
Friday, August 15, 2014
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Last Day to Get Festival Madness free on your Kindle Device
My
novel, Festival Madness was
inspired by my trips to Burning Man, and working in high-tech Cambridge.
How far would you go
for a friend? Put a wrecking ball to your marriage? Endanger your job? Risk
your very life?
Boston-based computer security consultant Emma Lee Devens leaves her top-secret project in disarray and jeopardizes her troubled marriage when she rushes to find her missing friend and colleague. Emma’s search takes her to the Black Rock Desert of northern Nevada and the Burning Man Festival where a unique experience of survival, ceremonial fire, danger and transcendence awaits. Anything can happen at Burning Man. Everything Can Happen at Burning Man.
Boston-based computer security consultant Emma Lee Devens leaves her top-secret project in disarray and jeopardizes her troubled marriage when she rushes to find her missing friend and colleague. Emma’s search takes her to the Black Rock Desert of northern Nevada and the Burning Man Festival where a unique experience of survival, ceremonial fire, danger and transcendence awaits. Anything can happen at Burning Man. Everything Can Happen at Burning Man.
I’m writing as Judith
Copek.
ASIN: B00E2YO538
Friday, August 31, 2012
The Man Burns Saturday Night in the Shadow of the Black Rock
From my 2004 Burning Man experience:
God, I wish I could be there again.
The
boat carried us out of Black Rock City and moved across the playa always
avoiding the people, bicycles, and mutant vehicles that converged on the fixed
point of the statue. In a perfect
state of inebriation, I had ridden a horse with no name to a strange but
friendly planet of flat alkali desert surrounded by dark mountains. The desert
dwellers came to this place and formed an immense circle around the god of
fire, who had assumed the mythic shape of a blue neon man, glowing over the
desert. Dancers twirling hypnotic flames spun around the statue while ships and
dragons and animals belched propane-fueled fire. Weird and wonderful shapes descended from the sky, lit by a
yellow moon that crept above the mountains. The fire dancers swirled like dervishes, and drums throbbed
in the eerie light where glow sticks burned like neon candles. I was eerily conscious of each detail
of this carnival night with its colors, sounds, tastes, smells and the absolute
anticipation. The dancers
spun in their circles of fire, and the drums pounded to a crescendo. Alone, the
neon man loomed over the desert, canopied by thousands of twinkling stars.
The
ritual began with a massive barrage of shooting rockets and fireworks
illuminating the man, then a blaze of fire and a magic conflagration roared to
life in a frenzy of heat and flames. The inferno raced up one of the man’s legs
and consumed him bit by bit even as his triumphant arms remained raised, as in
defiance. Everyone was yelling and
shouting and the air pulsed with music.
In an eruption of galactic grandeur, the Man was burning bright. The Man was burning.
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
The Man Burns
The New York Times has a incredibly cool photo of Burning Man today. Yup, the Man burns on Saturday. I haven't been there since 2004, not to the Festival that is. Pining to return to the Playa. In the photo I can see my characters Emma and Jean Claude, looking at the art in the desert.
Festival Madness hasn't sold, and I've not been able to drum up any interest. Would that some of the agents who have yet to respond see the stuff in the times and say, "hey, didn't I just have a query about Burning Man?"
I am going to break a rule this week, and send a photo from the paper along with my query. That's a no-no, but WTF? Nothing I've done so far has sparked a burning interest in the novel.
Whatever drummer I am marching to these days appears to be out in the desert (the playa?) banging out a rhythm that nobody but me can follow. You'd think this would be good for a writer, but it's not.
My suspense novel is approaching 70,000 words. Writing some fun stuff now, and in a few pages the computer is stolen. This book will end up in Gerlach, last town before the Man. With a shootout. And the world's most unlikely hero will surface. And there will be redemption.
In the meantime, this is the week to push Festival Madness.
http://www.burningman.com/
Festival Madness hasn't sold, and I've not been able to drum up any interest. Would that some of the agents who have yet to respond see the stuff in the times and say, "hey, didn't I just have a query about Burning Man?"
I am going to break a rule this week, and send a photo from the paper along with my query. That's a no-no, but WTF? Nothing I've done so far has sparked a burning interest in the novel.
Whatever drummer I am marching to these days appears to be out in the desert (the playa?) banging out a rhythm that nobody but me can follow. You'd think this would be good for a writer, but it's not.
My suspense novel is approaching 70,000 words. Writing some fun stuff now, and in a few pages the computer is stolen. This book will end up in Gerlach, last town before the Man. With a shootout. And the world's most unlikely hero will surface. And there will be redemption.
In the meantime, this is the week to push Festival Madness.
http://www.burningman.com/
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Burning Man
Ah, the Man burned last night, and I wasn't there. Every year that I don't go, I'm seized with such a visceral longing to be in the heat and the dust and the art and the anarchic chaos that defines Burning Man. If you've never been there, here is the description of "the burn" from my manuscript, Festival Madness.
The boat carried us out of Black Rock City and moved across the playa always avoiding the people, bicycles, and mutant vehicles that converged on the fixed point of the statue. In a perfect state of inebriation, I had ridden a horse with no name to a strange but friendly planet of flat alkali desert surrounded by dark mountains. The desert dwellers came to this place and formed an immense circle around the god of fire, who had assumed the mythic shape of a blue neon man, glowing over the desert.
Dancers twirling hypnotic flames spun around the statue while ships and dragons and animals belched propane-fueled fire. Weird and wonderful shapes descended from the sky, lit by a yellow moon that crept above the mountains. The fire dancers swirled like dervishes, and drums throbbed in the eerie light where glow sticks burned like neon candles. I was eerily conscious of each detail of this carnival night with its colors, sounds, tastes, smells and the absolute anticipation. The dancers spun in their circles of fire, and the drums pounded to a crescendo. Alone, the neon man loomed over the desert, canopied by thousands of twinkling stars.
The ritual began with a massive barrage of shooting rockets and fireworks illuminating the man, then a blaze of fire and a magic conflagration roared to life in a frenzy of heat and flames. The inferno raced up one of the man’s legs and consumed him bit by bit even as his triumphant arms remained raised, as in defiance. Everyone was yelling and shouting and the air pulsed with music. In an eruption of galactic grandeur, the Man was burning bright. The Man was burning. ©
The boat carried us out of Black Rock City and moved across the playa always avoiding the people, bicycles, and mutant vehicles that converged on the fixed point of the statue. In a perfect state of inebriation, I had ridden a horse with no name to a strange but friendly planet of flat alkali desert surrounded by dark mountains. The desert dwellers came to this place and formed an immense circle around the god of fire, who had assumed the mythic shape of a blue neon man, glowing over the desert.
Dancers twirling hypnotic flames spun around the statue while ships and dragons and animals belched propane-fueled fire. Weird and wonderful shapes descended from the sky, lit by a yellow moon that crept above the mountains. The fire dancers swirled like dervishes, and drums throbbed in the eerie light where glow sticks burned like neon candles. I was eerily conscious of each detail of this carnival night with its colors, sounds, tastes, smells and the absolute anticipation. The dancers spun in their circles of fire, and the drums pounded to a crescendo. Alone, the neon man loomed over the desert, canopied by thousands of twinkling stars.
The ritual began with a massive barrage of shooting rockets and fireworks illuminating the man, then a blaze of fire and a magic conflagration roared to life in a frenzy of heat and flames. The inferno raced up one of the man’s legs and consumed him bit by bit even as his triumphant arms remained raised, as in defiance. Everyone was yelling and shouting and the air pulsed with music. In an eruption of galactic grandeur, the Man was burning bright. The Man was burning. ©
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