David Mark Brown

Writer. Novelist. Redneck. Granola.

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June 1, 2014 By David Mark Brown Leave a Comment

Discount Books Daily, Discount Book Recommendation

dbd_logoIf you find books via the internet, you’ve probably already begun to use email recommendation services such as BookBub and Pixel of Ink to help you find deeply discounted ebooks (and sometimes paperbacks).

There are several of these services out there. From a writer’s point of view, I look for the ones with the largest subscriber base, to get the biggest bang for my buck. BookBub owns the title of largest with somewhere around 2 million subscribers. But, some users have become rather ho hum over the offerings provided.

See, if these services begin recommending books the subscribers buy and then find to be poorly written or wrongly recommended, the service looses its value and authority. [Read more…]

Filed Under: DMB Files, eBook revolution Tagged With: de novo, eBooks

December 19, 2012 By David Mark Brown Leave a Comment

De Novo Syndrome… Unleashed!

Jim Buckner’s (aka me) first book has arrived, and here is what people are saying about it.

“The rabid, frothy pacing gripped me like the iron jaws of a junkyard dog and left me crying out for a literary tetanus shot! More please.”

“I only smoke after sex and reading a really good book. This novel had me lighting up before I could set it down.”

“My first thought: Good Lord, not another first person POV series. My last thought: Thank you, may I have another?”

Who exactly are these people? Well… I don’t know. But whoever they are, they’re certainly real. As real as Jim Buckner himself. (Why would you even ask?)

De Novo Syndrome coverThe mysterious universe alluded to by the Lost DMB Files comes into sharper focus with the DMB Files as Professor Buckner discovers how deep the rabbit hole goes. The year is 2025, and the nation of Texicas is over 100 years old. Those behind its founding preserve a secret 1000 years older. The truth is waiting. [Read more…]

Filed Under: DMB Files Tagged With: de novo, Jim Buckner

August 20, 2012 By David Mark Brown Leave a Comment

What Raw Brain Juices Read Like

flying bulletThis might be a bad idea, but hey, it wouldn’t be the first and won’t be the last. Anywho, for my blog post today I’m blessing you fine readers with an example of what the unrefined fiction goo looks like while it is still fresh on the digital page. Why? You might ask?

  • Reason One: It might be fun to see another step of the process.
  • Reason Two: Maybe it will prick your curiosity.
  • Reason Three: I’m behind schedule on writing blog posts.

Just this last week I’ve started on the first draft of my next novel. Without any set-up or background, here is a snippet (context is overrated):

The second figure I had tried to shoot held me by my belt at eye level. He revealed the palm of his hand, holding it open inches in front of me. A 9mm bullet lie there, glistening. He choked, struggling to breath before huffing a clot of phlegm into my face.

Where was I? Who? I fumbled between realities. In one world a blistering, hot wind scoured my face with sand. In the other an isopropanol solution stung my eyes. The man starring at me blurred between a craggy-faced red-eyed demon and a bland cubical-drone performing his duties without emotion. “Do I know you?”

The red-eyed man laughed. “We’ve met, once.”

I blinked droplets of isopropanol and detergent from my eyes. Thirty-two seconds. Tossing me upward, the drone spun. Instantaneously he caught me with a roundhouse kick to the chest. I felt every aspect of the kick, experienced the expenditure of every ounce of energy required to generate it… and more. I saw its color as light bent around the moving foot. I heard the red-eyed man’s laughter, tasted what he had for breakfast—salted fish and black coffee, arabica.

I floated, ascending slowly toward the ceiling. The drone followed through the kick with angry efficiency. Then transferring the shiny bullet from left hand to right he propelled it forward like a pitcher toward home plate.

Droplets of solution shattered and spiraled clear of the bullet’s path before collapsing in its wake. Marisol.

I smashed into the ceiling as her taught body jerked, her finger twitching on the trigger. She resisted the reality, forcing her mind to reject the misfiring signals from the region around the bullet wound.

“Marisol!”

I felt the river rising. I felt the torrent stealing me away.

“Marisol.”

My mind’s screen blanked, all of me now subsumed in the background. Jim Buckner dead, gone, disappeared. Blackness.

That about sums it up. Now you won’t even need to read the book! (Just kidding.)

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: de novo

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About Me

David Mark Brown Welcome to the Green Porch! Yep, this is my blog. It's a meeting place for those interested in the art of conversation, story, community and sustainability. Hey, its a big porch. There's room for all of us, so pull up a chair and I'll pour you a drink (adult beverages after 2:00pm, which where I'm from is also known as the watermelon hour).

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