• Mark Meier


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  • Mark Meier

A Brotherhood story

In the space between spaces, where we all met, a convocation of sorts took place.

All the preparations were in place. The beauty, which I reflected, was ready to accomplish His will. Everything would turn out amazing - almost as awesome as me. He hadn’t told Me the entire plan, though.

He was about to make His final changes. The excitement was palpable. All of Us were already singing praises, and the anticipated crescendo had most of Us dancing. The joy about to burst forth was indescribable, even though I restrained myself. Someone with my beauty should be somewhat restrained, but all the wonders of His creation would exist in short order. I might even be among the impressed.

“THE PLAN WE HAVE REQUIRES SOMEONE TO GO THROUGH THE MOST SEARING AGONY IMAGINABLE,” He said. “AND WE HAVE A VOLUNTEER.”

He wasn’t so much a single being but a collection of three. One of those would have to submit to the Higher Authority for all time. From that moment on, known as the Son, He would be . . . limited. He could - would - only do what the Father willed.

I thought of it as insanity. He still had His power, but He chose not to use it. The purpose of power was to use it. But who was I to question He Who was perfect? Or was He?

“ONCE MY PLAN REACHES FULFILLMENT OUR VOLUNTEER WILL BE RULE UNDER MY AUTHORITY. EVERYTHING WILL BE GIVEN TO HIM.”

What? Another level of insanity? Give everything to someone who will take on the form of a puny human for all eternity? The least of Us were orders of magnitude better than the best of . . . them. And there were none better than Me.

I looked around and many of Us had become restive. A number also glanced at those around Them. I marked who They were in My mind. Something had to be done. All of creation could not be handed over to . . . that, not when I was available and such a better option.

Then He moved over the face of the deep.

“LET THERE BE LIGHT.”

At His Word there was light.

And I hated it.

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  • Mark Meier

One of the things I’ve noticed over the years is that when I finish a major writing project I feel like I’m set adrift. I’ve been so busy with The Brotherhood for so long that it’s like the power has been cut off and I’m wandering around with seemingly nothing to do.

It’s not true, of course. There are plans to make for the launch party, signings to arrange, things like that. There’s also the fact that I have so many projects in my head that I could write full-time for the rest of my life and not come close to getting half of them down.

The status of The Brotherhood is this: I’ve received a “proof” copy and read through it. Good thing I love the story, or it would have been tedious. Suggested changes have been detailed, and now my wife is reading for her edits. Hopefully we can get it to the publisher by the weekend.

Once the changes have been made, the physical printing has to be done, and once I have copies in my hands I’ll set a date for the book launch party. As of this moment it appears it will be at Lost Island Wine on Theater Road in Onalaska. Because of the nature of the venue, nobody under age 21 will be able to attend.

We’re hoping for door prizes, snacks, and more. Perhaps other members of our writing groups would be willing to have a table for their books, too. So many of them have published books, too, that it would be a shame if we couldn’t help them out, too.

In the meantime, I’ll wander through the house, looking into corners, waiting to get sufficiently bored to force me back into another project.

My publisher may have suggestions soon on Eclectia: A Collection by Mark Meier. I just picked up a rejection on Ravid this morning. Ebony Sea 1: First Mission is getting close to being submission-ready. And The Archives is still awaiting my attention. Sequels and prequels to The Brotherhood.

So much to write, so little time.



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