As you can see, this is a blog (a blog, you say? You're like the only person in the world that has one!). Here are my promises to you: I promise to up date this as much as I can. I promise that at some point, you will most likely be offended. I promise you may suffer from the affliction the Klunatics know as Wookie Cry Face. I also promise to make this some place where you can see how my mind works.
To celebrate the release of the sequel to the award-winning bestseller Bear, Otter, and the Kid, we’re going all out! Who We Are continues the story Bear and the boys as they deal with the next stage of life beyond their happily ever after: custody battles, misanthropic seagulls, the return of old enemies, and, of course, bad poetry. To mark this occasion, we are proud to announce the first ever Official Bad Poetry Contest Super Funtime Extravaganza!
Over the next four weeks, we will be asking readers and fans to submit their own original bad poetry, telling us why they think they should win and have the honor of being crowned the First Ever Bad Poetry Contest Winner, a title most coveted amongst the few people who care about such things, and in certain backrooms of disreputable establishments that most likely allow prostitution and where the walls are probably sticky.
And to make this literally the most exciting event ever to take place in recorded history, we have enlisted three celebrities as the judges. TJ will pick his top favorites out of the submissions and then hand off the final decision-making to the most powerful celebrity judging panel ever assembled.
Prepare to shield your eyes from the awesomeness:
Eric Arvin, author of Woke Up In A Strange Place and Galley Proof
Jamie Fessenden, author of We’re Both Straight, Right? and The Christmas Wager
SJD Peterson, author of the Whispering Pines Ranch series
As we said: Most. Powerful. Celebrity. Judging. Panel. Ever.
The specific rules and dates:
1)The poems are due no later than Friday, April 20th.
2)The subject matter of the poem is simple: Why should you win this contest above everyone else?
3)The poem mustwritten by you and no one else. (We’ll know—we have our ways.)
4)The poem must rhyme, because as everyoneknows, real poems rhyme!
5)The poems must be a minimum of eight lines or 2 stanzas, to a maximum of 20 lines or five stanzas.
6)THE POEM MUST BE BAD.We mean it!If you present something that is literary equivalent to Robert Frost or William Blake, you will be disqualified and your poem will be posted so everyone can make fun of you for being so good. AND WE WILL MAKE FUN OF YOU.
7)Poems are to be emailed to tjklunebooks@yahoo.com and contain the subject heading “Bad Poetry Contest Entry”.Again, itmust be submitted by April 20th.The email must also include your name, return email, bad poem (duh), and also your location (States or outside the US—more on the reason for that in a minute.)
8)Winners will be announced on April 27th, the release day of Who We Are.
9)Putting a hit out on fellow contestants to even the playing field is permitted, as is bribing the judges.(TJ also accepts bribes in the form of baskets of mini-muffins.But God help you if there are blueberry mini-muffins in there.TJ hates blueberries and will have you banned from the human race for all eternity. You’ve been warned.)
And now, onto the PRIZES…
3rd place
eBook of Who We Are
2nd Place
--eBook Who We Are
--an eBook each from Eric Arvin, Jamie Fessenden, and SJD Peterson
Grand Prize
--an eBook each from Eric Arvin, Jamie Fessenden, and SJD Peterson,
--Signed paperback copies of Bear, Otter, and the Kid, Burn (Elementally Evolved Book I), and Who We Are from TJ Klune
--and finally, the Grand Prize Winner will have their name used as a character in the upcoming second book in the Elementally Evolved series, titled Break.
This contest is open to everyone.However, should an international reader win, TJ will be unable to ship paperback copies overseas.Should an international reader win the Grand Prize, they will receive e-books and have a character named after them in Elementally Evolved Book II.
So, there it is!Should you have questions, please email TJ and let him know.Have fun creating the most atrocious poetry known to man and we can’t wait to see what you come up with!
***Full Disclosure—this is a long post, discussing key plot points and twists for my novel Burn. If you haven’t read the book, consider yourself warned***
So, you read Burn, have you?
First, know that I thank you. I’ve been thinking off and on about that story (and the saga to follow) for four years before I finally starting writing it. It was a cathartic experience, getting to burn the world after living in Seafare, Oregon with Bear and the boys for so long. I am sure you can imagine the delicious cackling that followed certain scenes in Burn. Oh, Bear! I thought. You think you have problems.
So! I’ll cover history, Easter eggs, questions, a deleted scene from Burn and all the way at the end, you’ll get the title and first line of Book II. Let us begin!
A History Lesson (there will be a quiz afterwards, so pay attention!)
Burn was not an easy story to write, due to a different kind of research going into it. The idea of a registration act and violence against certain sects against the population came from two very dark periods of time. The first, which is mentioned briefly in Burn, is the treatment of Japanese-Americans in WWII following the bombing of Pearl Harbor. FDR signed what is known as Executive Order 9066. It allowed US armed forces to declare certain areas of the United States as “military areas”, which allowed them to “exclude any or all persons” in this area. Even though it wasn’t spelled out by specific ethnicity, the target became obvious as 120,000 people of Japanese descent were moved into internment camps, or prisons. These camps were self- sustaining by those who lived there, each party made to work to help grow food, or provide other essential services. There were schools, stores, minor medical services. But there are also some horrific descriptions of the living conditions in these camps, of which there were 10, including one here in Arizona about 200 miles from where I live. People died there. Yes, this was a time of fear, the nation just having suffered an extraordinary catastrophe with destruction of Pearl Harbor and the loss of American lives. However, it should be noted that 62% of the Japanese that were forced into these camps were either American-born children of immigrants, thus making them American citizens, called Nisei, or they were Sansei, the children of the Nisei. The rest were Japanese immigrants. It’s fascinating to read what a country paralyzed by fear can do to their own people. It should also be said that in addition to Japanese, there were Americans of Italian and German ancestry who were interned, as well as some of Jewish descent.
The second example, of course, was the aftermath of 9/11. When stories dominated the airwaves of people of Middle-Eastern descent being dragged from their homes, or assaulted on the street by those who thought that all Arabs were Muslims were Pakistanis were Iraqis were terrorists. While there were no specific camps in the US (that we know of), the parallels between the two events is chilling.
That is what I wanted to build a story around (oh, and I also wanted God to be a Tree. Go figure, right?) People living their lives as best they could, but being singled out because of something they were born with, something they could not change, even if they wanted too. Obviously, there are some not-so subtle parallels as to the current gay-rights movement, but I couldn’t help but write the political elements (ha! get it?) into the story. You don’t have to agree with my politics (nor should you be forced too) but I couldn’t escape writing at least part of my beliefs coupled with the idea of singling out a certain sects of the population. I’m not going to tell you who to vote for (but I will say who NOT to vote for: Newt Gingrich. Really, Newt? You’re a douche!) This book was probably as “political” as I will get. Well, until the series continues.
Okay, no quiz. I was just kidding.
Careful, kids: we’re heading into spoiler territory now. Don’t say I haven’t warned you. Repeatedly.
“TJ!!! HOW COULD YOU?!?!?!?”
“OMFG!”
“WHAT. THE. FUCK.”
“TICK & TOCK ARE MY FAVORITES!!!” (twenty minutes later) “NOOO!!!!!!!”
Ah, the joy of the internet, being able to see real time updates on people reading Burn and getting to Chapter 11. Remember what I said about cackling while writing Burn? This was what I was cackling about. You see, as soon as I knew there were such people as The Clock Twins (and they were two of the first characters to come into play in my head), I knew it was going to be Tock. I knew Tock was the betrayer, and I couldn’t wait to write that scene. I almost skipped ahead and wrote it anyways, but I made myself wait. I thought it would be cuh-RAZY.
I didn’t realize how much it would hurt.
You see, when you spend three months straight with people, you either love them or you hate them. I hate Kammy (though, I often wonder about her motives.) I hated Nero for a time (even though I don’t think I do now. I dislike him greatly, yes. But I don’t hate him.) But the Clock Twins? Holy fuck, I loved the Clock Twins. I loved everything about them from their banter, to their obvious love for each other, to their love of all things tech-related. When I finally did arrive at that scene? I chickened out. I made it Kammy. I was going to make her the avenging bitch I thought she could be. And I wrote it that way.
And it was crap.
It didn’t have the emotional sucker-punch I was going for, when you have to go back and re-read that paragraph just to make sure you read it right.. The reader doesn’t spend a whole lot of time with Kammy, doesn’t really get to know her except to say “Ewww, fall of a cliff and let go of Seven, you canker sore!” But Tock? Man, you knew everything about him. You knew what he was capable of! Hell, he jumped off a building and struck one of the Scarred King’s Elementals in the head with a brick at the attack on Jason’s apartment! You knew him, right? No, as it turns out. You did not. So I went back and wrote it as Tock. And man, it did hurt. But it went exactly as the story was supposed to go. I'd always seen as Tick as the more innocent of the two, and I wanted others to see him that way.
I wanted to make the mother as the Scarred King kinda-sorta obvious so you wouldn’t see Tock coming. And beyond that, that you wouldn’t see that the Tree (God) had been corrupted. That you wouldn’t see Dan as the one dying in the Tunnel. That you wouldn’t see Maxius Paracel (though, some of you clever kiddies figured that one out. Kudos). That you wouldn’t see Felix’s sacrifice to save Seven coming. I wanted the last couple of chapters to be a complete clusterfuck compared to the rest of the story. And this plays to how you see Felix too. To me, he was soft at the beginning, and that was intentional. By the end? By the end I think he was a hard-core motherfucker. By the end, he could feel the oil in him and he was no longer completely a “good” guy.
So do I regret chapter 11 in the slightest?
You bet your fucking ass I don’t. The majority of the reviews (even the negative ones) thus far have cited the last 20% of Burn as batshit-insanity, and I am glad people are seeing it that way.
Burning Questions
These are some of the theories and questions I’ve been asked so far (and of course I’ll answer them right now! Duh!):
Q: So, since the FindoUnum has a heart sworn, and Felix has Seven, does that mean that Max also has a heart sworn since he is Split?
A: Okie dokie!
Q: We heard the first part of the prophecy, but what is the second part?
A: Sure!
Q: Ah, man, Tock! TOCK!!!!! But what does that mean about Tick? Weren’t they always together? Is Tick bad too?!?!!? WAIT! THAT PART WHEN THE CLOCK TWINS STOLE THE LAPTOP FROM SEVEN IN THE FLASHBACK, DID TOCK DO THAT ON PURPOSE BECAUSE HE WAS ALREADY EVIL?!?!? ANSWER ME, DAMN YOU!
A: I had a granola bar for breakfast this morning. And orange rind tea. Both were good.
Q: Where are the Prima—the Firsts—that came down from the Tree?
A: Seafare, Oregon, living in the attic of the Green Monstrosity. Burn/BOATK crossover!
Q: How did the Scarred King find Max, and which one of them is the main bad guy?
A: Who said they would be the main bad guy? Or maybe they are. One of them. Or both.
Q: They gray-eyed man. What’s his deal? He seems…anal. And I want him to fall off a cliff for what he did to Otis. And land in a pool of lava inhabited by sharks that can live in lava for the sole purpose of eating the gray-eye man as he burns. In the lava.
A: Quite!
Q: You’re not going to kill off anyone else are you? (And by that I mean it’s okay to kill Kammy, but if you harm one hair on Otis’ head, I will cut you.)
A: In all seriousness: No one is safe. No. One.
Q: I love Otis!
A: Hurray! But that’s not a question.
Q: Why does Felix hate cats so much?
A: I had started writing Burn and had gotten through the prologue. I stopped to get a drink. My fucking cat jumped up onto my laptop and somehow managed to delete five thousand words. I hadn’t saved it. Therefore, Felix hates cats.
Q: Is there any significance to Seven being named “Seven”?
A: Yes, there is.
Q: Do you know where the whole story is going?
A: I do, for the most part (things can change, as I think I’ve shown). I know how the entire series will end, what the last scene will be. I know the major twists coming up. And if you thought Chapter 11 was crazy, you ain’t seen nothing yet.
Q: WHEN WILL BOOK II BE OUT?!?!?! IT BETTER BE TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A: *sighs*
It’s the Easter Bunny!
Read Burn? I sure hope so if you’ve gotten this far! Throughout Burn, there are a few Easter eggs for the intrepid re-reader to track down. You’ll notice that there is a LOT of Latin the book, especially the names of places/locations/events. Some of those places give hints to the story. For example: remember the Gemellus screen in Quadratum Plaza? Gemellus is a Latin form of the word “twin.” Oh, and the vecuronium bromide, the drug that acts like a liquid version of the Suppressor? Real thing! And a nurse in Japan did use it to kill 10 patients in 2001 (non-Elementals. I think.) Crazy stuff. What other ones are there? (Oh, and you may want to see if you can find any Burn Easter Eggs in the BOATK sequel, Who We Are, out in April. I’m so totally not kidding.)
Deleted Scene
Okie dokie. So, remember when Seven revealed to Felix on the rooftop of the Station that Felix’s mom was the Scarred King, and all the shenanigans that followed? This is the next morning, the day they go to Quadratum Plaza that last time. I deleted this scene because it covers some of the stuff already said on the rooftop, and I didn’t think it added much. But it does show Felix’s mentality toward Seven and where it could potentially go in the future (you know, if Felix ever returns from the field.)
***********
I woke the next morning, curled in my bed, Seven pressed firmly against my back. For a moment, as is often the case when waking, things were okay. Everything was fine. Then my brain began to catch up with my eyes and cracked open wide, and I could hear him say it again—
your mother didn’t die that night
—and I moaned quietly to myself, trying to keep the big guy from hearing the pained distress in my breath. I should have known he was awake and probably had been for some time, watching over me as I slept in a place so far below the surface that even dreams of fire and Trees and darkness couldn’t follow me. She couldn’t even follow me there, no matter how hard I’m sure she tried. Seven wrapped himself around me tightly as silent tears leaked from my eyes, carving a path down the stiff skin under my eyes. I felt one of the big guy’s hands cup my face and rub the tears away with his thumb. It was almost too much for me to take.
“Don’t,” he whispered to me, his breath hot against my face. “Please don’t, little man. I don’t know if my heart can take it.”
This, of course, made it worse.
I was angry. I was angry at crying yet again, what weakness those exhausted tears showed. I was angry at the Tree for making me what I was (never once questioning when I had started believing that yes, there was a Tree, and yes, It had started this whole fucking mess, and yes, I wanted it to burn to the ground). I was angry at the people of this Station. I was angry at the Council, the Circle. I was angry with my father. My mother. But him? The man who held me like I was the most precious thing in the world? Like if he could take away all my sorrow, he would? I was angry with him most of all.
“You bastard,” I cried out softly. “You unbelievable bastard.” I struck his face, his chest, his arms. I wanted him to hurt, to feel the same pain I was, the way my insides felt as if a great rift had opened up in them and everything I knew was falling down into that dark crevice. “I fucking hate you!”
Seven let me struggle in his arms, never once stopping me from striking him, but never flinching or readying himself to move off me. He stayed where he was, taking the miserable punishment I doled out upon him. I could burn him, I thought frantically. I could burn him if I really wanted to. He may be heart sworn, but I bet I could burn him if I really tried. It could be easy. It would be so easy.
It would be, it whispered.
“I know,” he said roughly, pawing at my face as if it would stop the tears from falling. “Don’t you think I know that?”
“Then why?”
He grabbed my chin in his hand and forced my eyes to his, and my breath caught in my throat as I saw the ocean in his eyes, the way the waves rolled and thundered, the pain there searing straight through the darkness I still felt in my chest. The look parted the oil, if only for a moment, but it was enough to cause me to gasp out as I lunged my face forward to his, kissing him with everything I had left to give. He pressed back, a moan escaping from his mouth as his tongue forced my lips apart. It burned, and I knew he was trying his damnedest to exorcise whatever it was I had in me. I felt his fingertips brush over my eyebrows, and then he growled, and for once, I rumbled back at him, that low sound that seemed to always come from the deepest part of him. I took it then from him for what it was: a chance, a belief, a hope for something more, for something that I knew was almost lost to me. He gave everything he could, and I took it all until I was filled so that I thought I would burst. I jerked away from him, and he pressed his forehead against mine.
“You think she’s going to be there, don’t you?” I breathed. “You think my mother is going to be at the Plaza.”
He watched me sadly. “If what we think is correct, if something will happen to all those people, something beyond whatever test is going to happen, then, yes, Felix. Yes. I think she will be there.”
“Because she knows,” I whispered. “She knows that we’ll be there too.”
He kissed me lightly. “Yes,” he said simply.
I tried to struggle against him again, but it was no use. He was too big. “And what am I supposed to do about it?” I snapped at him. “Just what the fuck do you expect me to do?”
Seven sighed. “I expect you to do what you planned on doing before all of… this. I expect you to be the man I know you are. I expect you to protect those that can’t protect themselves.”
“So easy for you to say,” I snarled at him. “So easy for you to sit there and tell me what to do. You don’t know what it’s like. You don’t know what it’s like to be lied to. About everything. For my entire fucking life! What else is there, Seven? What the hell else is there that you think you need to protect me from!” By the time I finished, I was shouting in his face. He never flinched, but his face turned to stone, and I knew I was getting him angry. Good, I thought savagely. Good.
“I am Iuratum Cor,” he said through gritted teeth. “I am your protector. I am the one who knows you best. I fucking decide when you get to know anything!”
“You think so?” I snapped. “You think that just because the Council told you you’re something special that you are? That because you think you love me that you get to control me? You think you know what’s best for me? Think again. I don’t fucking need you. I don’t fucking need your goddamn protection. I was fine as I was! Why’d you have to ruin that? Huh? Why’d you have to fucking come for me like you did? I don’t want you! I never did!”
“Really?” he sneered at me. “You don’t want me? You don’t want me to tell you what to do? Then why the fuck are you so hard right now?” He reached down and grabbed my traitorous cock, squeezing it roughly. “Why the fuck do you keep rubbing yourself up against me if you don’t want me? You can say whatever the hell you want, but your words are a lie. You give your own self away. You know as well as I do that you’re mine.” He jerked his hand against my dick, and I hated myself when I arched against him.
“Get off me!”
“Like hell,” he muttered as he buried his face against my throat, his tongue lashing against my neck.
“Seven, I’m warning you.” I could feel the air around us begin to shift, and a soft breeze blew through my hair.
“No,” he said as he bit my neck and sucked the skin.
The wind grew stronger as I rolled my head back, allowing him better access to my neck. “I could make you,” I whispered harshly. “I could so make you.”
“Try it,” he challenged as he slid his hands into my shorts.
I felt myself begin to sink into him, his grasp so strong, my body like a bundle of live wires. The air began to settle but I dug deep and found the anger still in me, molten and flashing, and I dived into it. I dove underneath and thought a single word—
Ventis
—and the air whipped back up again, roaring in my ears, and I pushed and Seven flew off of me, across the room. I had a confusing moment of undeniable triumph until he crashed into the far wall ten feet away, the plaster cracking behind him as body snapped back upon impact. He made only a quiet sound—oof—before he slid down the wall to the floor. His head slumped forward as he collapsed onto the floor, and at that moment, I wanted to take it all back. I wanted to forget everything horrible I’d ever done, that I’d ever said. I’d done the one thing I had promised myself weeks before, the one thing that I never thought I’d be capable of: I had hurt the one who mattered the most to me.
I croaked out his name as I stumbled from the bed, unable to run to him as fast as I wanted to. It felt like it took minutes, hours, days before I slid to me knees beside him, taking his head in my hands, grimacing in dismay as I felt the wet blood drip over my fingers from the back of his head. “Seven,” I whimpered. “Oh God, oh my God, Seven.” He groaned again, and his eyes fluttered open, unfocused and hazy as they moved toward my face. “I’m sorry. Oh, Jesus, I’m so fucking sorry.” I stripped off my shirt and pressed it to the back of his head, pulling him against my chest. For a moment, his arms hung at his side as I felt him tense against me, and it was the worst moment of my life, hyperbole be damned. But then I felt him circle my waist and I dropped the shirt as I crawled into his lap and he rocked me back and forth as I babbled incoherent apologies in his ears, kissing his face, careful of the open wound on the back of his head. He shushed my words with his lips, and I knew he wasn’t angry with me, I knew he loved me, I knew these things and so much more. I knew this because I knew him. It didn’t matter what came, if she was alive, if she was coming for me. He was here, I was in his arms, and that was all that mattered. That was all I needed. This is my home, I told myself wildly. Oh, please, please just let him be my home.
You’ll run, it promised. You just don’t know it yet
Below, you'll find the song I'm playing over and over while writing Book II. Lyrics, kids. Lyrics are always important (consequently, the author of this video must like Elementals. Check out the color of the lyrics. Badass.) Play it, listen to the lyrics, as you scroll to the last part.
And Finally
The Current Work In Progress
Elementally Evolved Book II: Break
Coming Soon
Seven Cassius Fortis said, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
You've been patient with me as I've teased you for months. Well, now you can see for yourselves what all of the fuss was about. I am so terribly pleased to be able to say that my second novel, Burn, is now available for purchase. I hope you enjoy Seven and Felix, in addition to the rest of the Guardians Circle: Otis, Dan, Edna, Jason, Amy and the Clock Twins. Are you ready to Burn?
Set in a world that closely resembles our own, Burn is a story of redemption and betrayal, of family and sacrifice, which leads to the greatest question of all: how far would you go to save the ones you love?
Fifteen years ago, Felix Paracel killed his mother with fire that shot from his hands. Since then, he has hidden from forces bent on exploiting him and his fire and wind Elemental abilities. But Felix’s world is about to change, because he is Findo Unum—the Split One—and his coming has been foretold for generations.
Though Felix’s arrival brings great joy to the Elemental world, it also heralds a coming darkness. No one knows this better than Seven, the mysterious man who rescued Felix from that horrible fire years ago and then disappeared... who now has returned to claim what’s rightfully his: Felix’s heart. But even as Felix begins to trust Seven and his feelings about his place in the world, the darkness reveals itself, bringing consequences no one could have predicted.
Okay, gang. I'm a little bit more experienced this time around, what with releasing a book. But fuck if I still don't have the jitters like it was my first. It's not a bad feeling, more like that feeling you get when you've had to much coffee and you can't sit in one place and your eyes are all jittery and bulging out of your face. That kind of jittery. Times a billion.
Here are the images I've used as promotion this week, little teasers if you will:
Obviously, I made these myself (with the exception of the eyes on fire, that was done by my friend Kurt--pretty badass, right?) I just thought I'd try something different, seeing as how you won't see hands/trees/eyes on fire when the BOATK sequel comes out (well. not TOO many hands on fire).
I had fun making them, even if it did take me days to figure out how to put words on a picture (remember: I am not technologically advanced; the fact that I was able to do that I think is akin to man going to the moon: a miracle of astonishing proportions. It makes more sense if you know that I'm also the guy that once took a laptop back to a store after it didn't work anymore, only to be told that I had to plug it in to charge the battery. I didn't know that.)
But this is release eve! The day before! The mere hours until my second novel is released for the masses to read! HOLY FUCK ME SIDEWAYS! I know what to expect, and to be honest, I am very curious to see how Burn stacks up to BOATK, everything from reader reaction to sales. I don't really know what kind of reaction I will get. Okay, well scratch that. I anticipate there will be a fair (read: alot) of questions as to when Book II will be out given how....certain events occur. (Vague enough?) The best response I can give now is...soon. I'm working on it. But I am also working on the BOATK sequel edits, trying to find just how many times I can make people cry in that sequel (insert maniacal laughter). So, I'll just say this: you'll get the sequel as soon as I can finish it. But, Burn is probably around 12500 kindle locations so...you know. Take your time ;)
So Burn. What can you expect? Well, what do I hope happens? I hope you get scared. I hope you get pissed. I hope you laugh. I hope you cry. I hope you can see how this is kind of like BOATK in the ideas of family and responsibility. I hope it get's to the point where it is THREE A.M. and you have to get up to go to work in like THREE hours, but you can't got to sleep because you have to turn just ONE MORE PAGE. These are all the things I hope for you when you meet my new guys. I am going to take you to a dark place, but I promise there will be light poring in from somewhere, and maybe, just maybe you will see that this is how we burn the world.
So step over here with me, if you don't mind. Into the dark.
Hey gang. We are at 16 days and counting until the release for my second novel, Burn! I can't wait for you to see what's in store. Below, you'll find the complete playlist for the book. Each song was carefully picked because of the nature of the music/lyrics/sound. Some of the lyrics are very important to the course of the story, so if you're looking for clues, these songs are a great place to start. I will post three videos of the songs I feel are the true essence of Burn.
And another thing. I recently downloaded the app for my phone Pandora. I know, I know, I am way behind the times. If you don't know what it is, essentially it gives you the capability to create your own radio station with the music you like and then you are able to share it. I've thought about making a BOATK radio station. Thoughts? Do you use Pandora?
Anyhoo, the set list! I hope you like these songs as much as I do. I think they are exactly what Burn is all about. And, as a last note, obviously I do not own the rights to any of these songs. =D
TJ
The Burn Set List
Theme song— Puscifer “The Humbling River”
Prologue— Florence + The Machine “Blinding”
Chapter 1— Gary Jules “Mad World”
Chapter 2— Alkaline Trio “Burn” Chapter 3— Poets of the Fall “War”
Chapter 4— Go Radio covering Adele’s “Rolling In The Deep”
Chapter 5— Mumford and Sons “White Blank Page”
Chapter 6— Breaking Benjamin “Breath”
Chapter 7— Never Shout Never “Time Travel”
Chapter 8— Florence + The Machine “No Light, No Light” Chapter 9— Seether Featuring Amy Lee “Broken”
Chapter 10— Adele “Set Fire To The Rain”
Chapter 11— Nine Inch Nails “Burn”
Epilogue— Evanescense “Bring Me To Life”
Below, you’ll find the last BOATK short before the release of the sequel, Who We Are, in April (don’t have a specific date yet.)This short was written as a thank you to those who voted for the Kid in the GR M/M Awards and got him named Best Secondary Character of 2011 by quite a large margin (as well as a slew of other awards—you guys are seriously epic, you know that?).It’s a rad feeling to know that you all love him almost as much as I do.You should know that he still talks to me, though he’s a bit quieter now that I’m working on the Burn sequel.But he’s always there, at the back of my head, ever my damnable conscience.He’s biding his time, for sure, until it’s his turn again.Then he won’t shut up until the story is told.Not that I mind, of course, in the slightest.
The short below is a bridge between BOATK and its sequel, Who We Are.In this story, you will meet a new character who plays an important role in WWA.This fifteen year old is introduced to Bear part way through the new book, which is the first time you see him in the novel (which I released a few months back as a look into the WIP progress that was WWA--it's somewhere here on my blog, for those wanting to find it).It’s never really explained how the Kid and this new guy meet, only because the story is again told from Bear’s point of view, and by then, the new guy and Ty’s friendship is a few days old.In prepping to write this short, I got to thinking about this.Just how did they meet?What was the Kid doing?Why would he have felt the need to talk to an older boy who was a stranger, especially when this is only a couple of weeks after his mother had returned?I decided to go back and show this introduction between the Kid and his new friend, so you can see how they meet, to show how important it is for the Kid, and that while he may be the smartest nine-year-old eco-terrorist in training on the planet, he’s still only nine. He may be the Kid, but he’s still a kid.
I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.Only three more months until the sequel!!
You ready to meet Dominic?
Word Of The Day
A BOATK Short
By TJ Klune
He’s a big kid, much to my dismay.
Bear’s always told me that being a vegetarian is stunting my growth, and even if I thought that was true (which it’s not—Bear’s always saying stuff like that because he’s jealous of how awesome I am and nervous about his immortal soul), I still don’t think I could eat a baby cow to become taller.Try to think of that the next time you stuff your face with a hamburger: that cow was somebody’s mother or father.It’s easier to not eat meat when you anthropomorphize that which you are putting in your mouth.Besides, Bear’s short and he’s a carnivore of the highest order.I love him, but my big brother can be full of crap sometimes.He’s special that way.
I’m only a few houses down from the Green Monstrosity, after having followed a line of ants for the last half hour (did you know that some species can carry up to fifty times their body weight? That’s like me picking up a car) when I feel eyes on me from somewhere.I try to ignore the feeling because I’ve got things to do, big things, and I don’t want to be interrupted by some nosy neighbor we have yet to meet because we’re too busy actually living our lives for once.But that boring sensation doesn’t go away and I give in, maybe out of curiosity, or maybe to just glare at whoever is interrupting my expedition. For all I know, these ants would have lead me to some secret underground ant colony where I would have made the find of a life time by discovering a new species that would forever be known as Tysonious McKennnicus. That alone would have been my ticket into the Ivy League of my choice and cemented my future as the world’s leading vegetarian authority on this rare find.But no.Not going to happen. Now I have to deal with some lookey-loo who’s probably wondering why I’ve been staring at the sidewalk for the last thirty minutes, oblivious to their impending doom at interrupting my scientific endeavor that would have changed the face of myrmecology (the study of ants, duh) forever.I swear to God if I end up having to go to Arizona State because they’re the only school that’ll accept me, there’s going to be hell to pay.I refuse to go to a college who’s only milestone is having the world’s longest keg stand at a party thrown by the fraternity Notta Hava Fuchure just because I couldn’t complete my destined quest.
I’m gonna have to make it rain all up in here.
(Man.I really need to stop watching Maury Povich with Bear.It’s destroying my vocabulary.)
I look up and for a moment, I don’t see anyone.I think maybe I’ve made a mistake and can get back to the ants when a movement catches the corner of my eye across the street.I look over and see him.
He’s huge.Damn you genetics!
Some older boy is standing on the other side of the street, his shaggy dark hair falling around his face.He’s got big shoulders hidden under a plaid button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up showing black hair on his arms.His eyebrows are epic, kinda bushy and I know, I just know, he can do that thing that Otter can and arch one so it makes him look like a dastardly villain.I can’t do that and it sucks.He can’t be much more than fourteen or fifteen years old, but he looks like he’s been injected with bovine growth hormone, given his size.I almost want to run across the street and ask him if he’s been trapped at some secret government animal testing facility that has been administering new serums on cattle to make their cutlets bigger and jucier, only to let him know that I could rescue him and take him to a farm where he can live out the rest of his days with a salt lick and all the grass he can eat.But Bear said I shouldn’t talk to strangers because they would be scared of me.I always thought I was supposed to be afraid of them, but Bear said I would just end up talking them to death and that any nefarious purpose they might have had would become moot.
When Bear McKenna accuses you of talking too much, you know you have a problem.
Whatever.
So I wait and watch.So does he.He looks away for a moment, down the road, and then stares at his feet, which he shuffles back and forth, kicking a rock and a leaf.He’s trying not to look at me but I catch him peeking from the hair that has fallen around his eyes.What a weirdo.I’m not going to have a staring contest across the street. I am not even wearing my special Staring Contest Gloves, so… you know.There’s that.
I sigh and look back down at the sidewalk, trying to collect my thoughts, wondering if Otter or Bear will build me a mantle where I could put my first Pulitzer, next to my Lifetime PETA Awesome Award For Services To The Greater Good Of Our Animal Companions (this may not have been invented yet, but don’t worry; I’ve written PETA like four times asking for such an award to be brought into existence, and to let me be the first recipient of the prestigious LPAAFSTTGGOOAC.My last letter ended up being fourteen pages. Single spaced.With size ten Cordia font.I haven’t heard back yet.The “P” in PETA doesn’t stand for punctual, after all). I don’t think it would be too presumptuous for me to ask for at least a shelf.I could start there before eventually asking them to move out of the Green Monstrosity and just letting me use it for a trophy house.Heck, by then, Otter and Bear will be married and I’ll be super famous and will buy them a house in some country that actually likes gay people.United States of America?More like United States of Extraordinary Injustice Against Certain Segments Of the Population All Because Rednecks Are Scared Of Butt Sex..
I let this distract me for a few minutes as I find the specific ant I’ve been following (I’ve named him Helmholtz Watson after my favorite character in Brave New World).He’s carrying a crumb of something that’s twice as big as he is and it’s cool because it’s like Helmholtz doesn’t have any awareness of anything except moving from point A to point—
I’m still being watched.
“Well, Helmholtz,” I mutter, resigned, “looks like you’re on your own for a bit.Don’t worry about waiting for me.I’ll catch up.Tell the ant queen I’m still going to discover the crap out of her.”
Helmholtz doesn’t respond.But then I don’t expect him to; he’s an ant, after all.
I look back up as my future scurries away from me and see the strange boy has moved slightly down his side of the street, like he’s following me.Once he sees me watching him again, he looks at everything but me.A master of subtlety he is not. But that’s okay; according to the guys in my life, I fall into that same category.But at least I give it some panache.This guy couldn’t be more obvious if he had a big neon sign blinking above his head that flashed I’M STALKING YOU, BOY GENIUS.I feel nervous, if only for a moment, remembering back to a couple of weeks ago, when we sat in the attorney’s office (okay, but for real: how cool is it that I have an attorney? I’ve gone Hollywood!) and Erica asked us if we had seen anyone following us, or noticed anyone we hadn’t seen before.Well here’s someone following me. Here’s someone I haven’t seen before.Oh, calm down, I chide myself.What’s she going to do, jump out and snatch me while I’m distracted by her weirdo accomplice across the street?Get real.
Get real. Right?But no.No.Not right.Real was Mom showing up out of the blue.Real was the look on her face when I opened the door, like for that one tiny split second, she didn’t recognize me.Real was that dawning comprehension.Real was the way my hands started to shake. She didn’t look like I remembered, not like that picture I have of me and her from when I was just a little kid that I hide from Bear in the bottom of my drawer.Then, she was smiling, or at least as much as she could smile.Then, she looked happy, or at least as much as she could be happy.That was real.Or so I thought.In the end, it showed how much I didn’t understand how real things could be. Real was the real smile I saw on her face once recognition sunk in.That was real. I don’t stop myself from looking over my shoulder, and I don’t miss the relief coursing through me when I see Julie McKenna isn’t hiding in the hydrangeas.
Oh crap.I gotta stop it.Pretty soon, I’ll starting thinking of oceans and earthquakes and I’ll be forever trapped in my head like some people I know.
Only one way to deal with this: like a man.
“Hey!” I say loudly, trying to make my voice as strong as it can be.It doesn’t help that puberty is still a pipe dream a few years away (oh, joy, let me tell you how I can’t wait for that; I’ll start growing hair in weird places and probably want to smoke, flip up my collar and put my ball cap on backwards and say things like “Right on, dude. It’s time to par-tay.”Ugh.Adolescence is the bane of my existence).“Hey!” I say again, knowing repetition is needed when dealing with big galoots.
He looks down at his feet.God, he is so frustrating.
I take a deep breath and square my shoulders.My head is held high as I step off the curb and cross the street, trying to keep myself from running.I’m intimidating.I’m smooth.I’m a badass.I trip over my own feet.I stumble.I catch myself before I fall.I blush. I walk a little bit slower. My head is still held high. I’m still a badass.Kind of.
Bovine Boy hears my approach and glances up at me before looking down at the ground again, his arms behind him like he’s in the military or something.His shoelace on his left foot is untied, the plastic tip missing on one side, the end frazzled.It looks like he’s drawn little stars on the whites of his shell tops with a sharpie.That’s kind of neat, I guess.If you like that sort of thing.I wonder if Bear would let me do that.Is that what big kids do?Draw on their shoes? I can’t make very good stars, but I can write the Greek alphabet.From memory.That’s not something I brag about because people tend to look at me funny when I tell them.Bear says it’s just because their jealous.I hope he’s right, otherwise my life is going to be one awkward moment after another.I know too much about nothing.
I stand in front of the other guy, and I think this may have been a mistake, because he looked a little smaller from all the way across the two lane road.I wonder if this has to do with faulty depth perception, but before I can even begin to diagnose myself with some ocular disease, the big kid grunts.Like a gorilla.
I can’t help it: I laugh.
I don’t mean too, it just kinda comes out on its own. I smoosh my hands against my mouth to block the sound, but this causes me to snort, and snot comes out of my nose.I try to cover it up and jerk my left hand up, but it bounces off my nose and I poke myself in the eye.My eyes water as I hiss and knuckle my eyeball, but I’ve still got snot on my hand and gets all up in there, making it burn even more.Ow.I want to turn and run, but I’m temporarily blinded by my own devices and I know,I just know, that this big kid is probably some popular jock and I am forever going to be stuck with the nick-name Booger Eye Snot Face.I ask God quietly if he wouldn’t mind opening the ground beneath my feet and allow me to fall down a chasm to save me from myself.The ground doesn’t open.I’m still laughing, but it’s that high-pitched thing I do when I find something really funny.I hate that laugh.It always sounds like a clan of female hyenas all going into labor at the same time.Yip! Yip! Ayyyyyyyy!Yip! Yip! Ayyyyyyyy!
The other kid doesn’t say anything
Right.Aw. Kward.
He allows me the honor of death by mortification for a few moments more, but then I feel a gigantic hand pull my own away from my eyes, and another hand grips my chin. Something presses gently against my eye lid.It feels like a shirt.It rubs softly, getting all my grossness out.He brings it lower and brushes the tears from my cheek, wipes the snot from my nose.I crack open my right eye.My chin is still in his hand.There’s a look of concentration on his face as he finishes using the tail of his shirt and drops it back down.He inspects me for a moment more to make sure it’s good, and then he lets me go and takes a step back.But his blue eyes never leave mine, even as he towers over me, twice my size.
Focus, McKenna.Remember, he could be a spy.
“Why were you watching me?” I ask him, unsure of what else to say.
He doesn’t do anything for a moment.Then he shrugs.
Annoying.“You know,” I tell him, “when someone asks you a question, it’s rude not to answer.”
He shuffles his feet and looks down.
Dammit.Now I feel bad.“Okay, I didn’t mean you’re rude.I’m just saying, societal norms dictate that when a question is asked, a response should be given.”I try not to think of him as a gorilla again, because he already has a lot of my boogers on his shirt.A man can only take so many boogers before he walks away.Wait.Why do I care if he walks away?He’s probably a traitor.One of those lackey red shirts you always seen in stupid movies where the main bad guy needs hired muscle.Bear doesn’t let me watch too many movies like that, because he says that my maturing brain doesn’t need outside influences of gratuitous violence.I told him my brain was already more mature than his.He told me I was grounded.I told him he was grounded.Then he gave me soy ice cream and we watched a show on the History channel about World War II.That was a good day.
I sigh, only because the big kid hasn’t said anything yet.“I do like hearing myself talk,” I say, “only because I have a lot of neat things to say, but eventually the conversation will run out in like four or five years and then where will we be?”
Wonder of all wonders, he cracks a little smile.I don’t blame him.I am pretty funny.I see the in and I take it.“My name is Tyson James McKenna.I live with my brother Bear and his partner Otter.I know, I know.Who has names like that, right?Well, before we go any further, you should know that everyone calls me the Kid.Kind of like Billy and the.But without that part.Just the Kid.I don’t even really know how that started happening, I guess it just did.I don’t know if it was Bear, or my mom that started it, but I guess it stuck.I was the one that started calling Bear “Bear”, ‘cause that’s not his real name.His real name is Derrick, and when you meet him… well, I guess if you want to meet him, you’ll see he looks nothing like a bear.It’s something of a misnomer.I just learned that word yesterday.Misnomer.It means “a use of a wrong or inappropriate name.”I learned it from the word of the day calendar Bear bought me for my Christmas.I have been just waiting for a chance to use it, so thank you for letting me try it out on you.It’s a great sounding word, don’t you think?Mis. No. Mer.I like words.Inevitable.That’s a good one, ‘cause it just rolls off the tongue.You can say it, if you want.”I stop.Nothing.“Okay, maybe not right now.Later, though?You can say it with me.If you don’t know what it means, I’ll tell you.You just need to ask.Do you live around here?I do.I live in that green house back there.We call it the Green Monstrosity because the color makes you want to punch a baby in the face.Okay, not really.I would never punch a baby in the face.That’s just something Otter said once and I just died.It was sooo funny. Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you! Otter’s real name is Oliver.Another misnomer.Ha, ha!Sweet!I got to use it twice in one day!Man, that’s awesome. Anyways, Otter’s my brother partner.Do you know what that means?”
He’s watching me now.He shrugs again.Maybe that’s Bovine Boy for “keep talking. You’re way cool.”
“It means that my brother and him love each other and that’s okay, because who really cares if someone is gay, or straight, or whatever Bear is?I know I sure don’t.But then I never understood why people are homophobic.Who cares what two guys or two ladies do in the bedroom, right?It’s not like anyone wants to see what those jerks do in their bedroom, you know?But, it’s okay, I guess.For now.This whole past summer was this whole big… thing, but we all got over it and now we live together in the Green Monstrosity and it’s the best time ever.Do you live around here? I already asked you that.You know, you could jump in here anytime, really.How old are you? I’m nine, going on forty.That’s what my brother says.You should know he thinks he’s hysterical.Which he’s not.Do you live with your parents?It’s okay if you don’t.I don’t, so we’d have that in common, which would be rad.I don’t want to talk about my mom right now, though.”Oh crap.I should have asked already.“You don’t know her, do you?” I say quietly, not sure I want the answer.
His eyes widen, but he quickly shakes his head.I believe him.I don’t know why.
“Whew!” I say, relieved.“That’s a load off.Do you eat meat?I guess it’s okay if you do.You should know that I’m a staunch vegetarian.That’s another word I learned: staunch.It means “faithful” and “loyal.”That’s another great word, huh?Loyal.So if you eat meat, I won’t mind.Heck, I might even be able to convince you to come back from the Dark Side.Do you like Star Wars?I do.Bear and Otter and me had this marathon one time and we watched all six in one day and Bear made me spicy edamame and it was sooo good and that was another good day.I wish light sabers were real.Do you like to read? What’s your favorite book?I can’t pick just one, ‘cause I like them all.Wow, you sure don’t talk much do you?” Oh, crap.“Can you talk?I feel bad now ‘cause maybe you can’t talk.Were you in an accident?Or were you born that way?I wonder if that’s genetic.Or is it—
“I don’t live with my parents,” he says quietly as he watches me.His voice sounds broken, like he’s gargling gravel, like he’s not use to speaking and it’s hoarse from disuse.But I am so happy that he can talk and that he’s talking to me, that I don’t give it another thought.Maybe that’s just how he’s supposed to sound.“I live with fosters,” he rumbles.
“Oh.Oh.Like not your real parents, but people who watch you anyways?You don’t have to tell me why, if you don’t want too.Maybe later, huh?Then I can tell you about my… mom.”That word hurts more than I thought they would and my voice catches on it and almost breaks, but I push through it, blinking back the burn in my eyes.No. Not here.Not now.I don’t want to get in the bathtub today.There will be no earthquakes.So what if I’m still scared.So what if I worry that she’ll come back again and I’ll have to go away with her.So what if I’m worried that Bear is going to leave me too now that he has Otter, because now that he’s found himself, he won’t need me anymore.So what.Who cares.Blah, blah, blah.I don’t need the damn bathtub.I’ve been doing so good, dammit.I don’t need this.I don’t want this.
I hope he doesn’t notice my mini freak out, but he does.Of course he does.I am a little surprised when he reaches up and drops a hand on my shoulder, patting me twice before dropping his arm.I feel better almost right way.Weird.Whatever.He’s really cool.
“What were you doing over there?” he grumbles at me, pointing across the street.
I grin.“Following Helmholtz Watson as he carried a crumb back to the queen where I would have made the discovery of a life time and had my name emblazed in the annals of ant culture.”I groan inwardly as realize what I’ve just said.Crap, could I sound like any more of a freak?I blush and it’s my turn to look down as I shuffle my feet.“Just watching some ants,” I mutter.
“Can I watch with you?” he asks.
I look up at him, suspicious.“Are you making fun of me?”
His eyes widen and he shakes his head.“No.”
He seems sincere.“You’re not gonna get made fun of for hanging out with some little kid?Even though I’m not.I’m practically ten.Well, in another nine months.”
He shrugs.“I don’t care.I’m bigger than everyone.No one makes fun of me.”
I sigh.“I wish I could be big.That would be so cool.” I grab his arm and start pulling him across the street.I glance back over my shoulder and see he’s watching my hand on his arm.“Do you like ants?” I ask him.“I do, because the colonies they make are just fascinating, and I hope that we can find out where….”I stop and turn around.He watches me.Still.“You never told me your name,” I remind him.
He looks down the road, towards what, I don’t know.“Dominic,” he says.
“Dominic,” I say.“That’s a good name.So, ants!Have you read Brave New World?That’s where Helmholtz comes from.It’s kind of a dense read, but I have it and I can loan it to you, if you want to read it.Oh!Or you could get your own copy and we can read it at the same time and I can help you with the parts that confused me at first.Is that okay?I don’t want you to have to do anything you don’t want to do.That’s not how friendships work.And we’re friends now, right?”We reach the sidewalk and I look up at him again.
He smiles quietly.“We’re friends,” he says, his voice soft and broken.“It’s inevitable.”
