Dear Agent,

Or…ayah-kayah. The most re-written pitch in Wisconsin is on the prowl, or will be soon. I say “in Wisconsin” to limit my liability for bullshitting.

Southern Poland in the late Ice Age: The People are not your stereotypical cavemen. With a rich oral tradition, technology refined by long use, art woven into every fiber of daily life, they see themselves as the crown of creation. They take pride in what they do and who they are. And they have a great sense of humor. Well, most of them do.

Some of them also have magic.

Radovin’s bad luck has hit bottom. Only he, a despised apprentice shaman with few friends and no family, can expose two murderers. That he is bound to one of them by an oath sworn on his life, is yet another sign of his ill fortune. Avenging spirits will shred him merely for leaving his master, never mind betraying him.

His childhood dream of becoming a shaman may have withered in years of abuse and scorn, but Radovin’s not in a hurry to die. And, although the evildoers must be stopped, he doesn’t know the people he needs to tell or even where they now live. An ominous dream, coinciding with another murder, shatters his inertia. He flees toward the site of this year’s tribal gathering, where he hopes to make contact.

When he does, all heck breaks loose.

A 120,000 word fantasy, A Drum Is Empty should please lovers of the distant past as well as those who enjoy magical adventure.


I’m planning another drum, BTW. A floor drum, eight inches wide and maybe twenty tall. It will be a new adventure in frame building. Just bending the cardboard is a challenge. Narrow strips are easy; I pull them over my thumb to give an even curve. Because of the size, and because heating season is nearly over, this one will also take longer to build up. And be a pain in the butt while it is stting around in the way drying!