"I know what a lessor Sorkin is... and I want to be one."

Ark Book IV: Ghosts

This is my first novel, so you, the reader, may be wondering why it is now Book IV. Well, a lot has happened since it was completed. When the first addition was finished, my next series of ideas begged the formation of a trilogy. Guess what happened, again? Yes, I began to have ideas about events which precede those depicted in the original three works, and more ideas about events which follow them. This second edition also has some changes to sync better with the larger story I want to tell. My writing journal is getting a workout. I'm seeing more books to the series, possibly nine altogether, but time will tell. In the meantime, I hope this edition, and the other books which follow, are the cause of enjoyment for you.

Prologue

The Men's Basketball Back Court, our Sunnyside College booster club, was winding down its meeting. The question and answer area, where my attention barometer always swings between boredom and interest, was on life support. A couple of dumb questions in a row had me starting to doze, then begin fumbling for my car keys while glancing at the exit.

The next question came from a booming voice seated a 'knight' move, two seats right and one row ahead of me. The voice belonged to a big, hulking guy, obviously a former player, a senior about my age, which put his dunking days far behind him.

I don't remember the question he asked. I just remember he interjected that his blog was up to one hundred thousand hits. Wow! I thought. I had just started a blog a few months before, finally finding the time in my retirement that I couldn't find in my working life to pursue my writing. I decided to write anecdotal, funny stories about my family when growing up, sort of a written 'oral' history, which present and future family and friends might find amusing. Without trying to ring the bell "hit" wise, forwarding new stories as they were published to a growing audience, I was up to five hundred hits. I didn't care about the number. I was having fun, and beginning to feel good about writing for the long term.

Instead of bee-lining toward the exit, I tacked over and introduced myself to Calvin, the hundred-thousand-hit man. He turned out to be a very gregarious, engaging person, genuinely interested in what interested me. I quickly switched the subject from basketball to writing as we walked to our cars. Already a book author, he offered to impart what he'd learned over the years plying his craft. A really nice guy. Just met, and he's eager to help me. None of us are good judges of character all the time. We've had good gut feelings before about someone, and have been wrong, but I was pretty sure I was right about Calvin.

As we approached our cars, we established some background. Where did you grow up? Then, where do you live now?

"No shit!!" we both said together. Same town. This makes it convenient to car pool to the Summer League basketball games at the Delaware shore, a half hour away, and to continue to talk about our writing.

The day the Summer League schedule was published, Calvin beat me to it. I saw his email as I logged on to send him one. I responded, agreeing we should go to the season opener. We would meet at his house. He offered to drive, and we would happily zoom toward the shore venue. Happily I say, because that day, July 6, was the beginning of the basketball season for us fanatics.

Cal was very emphatic about how his writing, and the idea for his first book, came to him.

"Like a thunderbolt," he said. "It all came to me at once. The idea, the story, almost the whole book flashed into my mind at once."

I found this very spiritual, and understood that it happens often to great artists who create works that, for the rest of time, earn them the genius moniker. Handel, the composer, wrote Messiah in twenty-four days. Frank Lloyd Wright, the architect, shook the plans for Fallingwater, that many consider to be the most famous house in America, out of his sleeve in two-and-a-half hours, while his clients were in route to see them.