Chris Forman's Blog

Hey, I've had some problems with this blog. It got hacked and there are some links I don't want on it so I started a new one called Chris Forman, Author.

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Hey, I've had some problems with this blog. It got hacked and there are some links I don't want on it so I started a new one called Chris Forman, Author.

Earth Magazine
I haven't posted here in a while because I have been typing away on the new novel, Love in the Ashes. The past six weeks have produced 107 pages and about 26,000 words. The basic story is finished and now I have the hard part of 'filling in' by fleshing out the characters, expanding the story line and adding some quirky things. I'll keep you posted on the progress, but it may be out by the summer.

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Earth Magazine




I haven't posted here in a while because I have been typing away on the new novel, Love in the Ashes. The past six weeks have produced 107 pages and about 26,000 words. The basic story is finished and now I have the hard part of 'filling in' by fleshing out the characters, expanding the story line and adding some quirky things. I'll keep you posted on the progress, but it may be out by the summer.

Photo from Chatanooga Times Free PressI'm working on a story about a town like Centralia, Pennsylvania where an underground coal fire has been burning for decades. 
The tale of two star crossed teen lovers from different sides of a nearly abandoned village. He is the son of a moonshiner family and she is the daughter of a leader of a religious cult who believe they are guarding the gates of hell. As the flames from the coal fire burn under the ground the flames of their passion burn above.


Here is the first chapter-


It was a beautiful day for a romantic stroll down Main Street in Chelsea Brook, Pennsylvania. The fading sunlight made the wisps of coal smoke look like angels dancing in the air and the low-lying sulfur cloud took on an ethereal hue of yellowish-orange. Despite the crisp air of an autumn day, the street was warm from the fires lurking in the Earth below and steam was escaping from a few fissures in the road. The young couple was walking barefoot on the warm macadam; their hands tightly clasped, and stars in their eyes. They stopped in front of the boarded up remains of the police station. Tim brushed a strand of Becky’s blonde hair from her steel-grey eyes and leaned down to kiss her.            They embraced and turned to see their reflections in the one remaining uncovered window. “We look good together,” said Becky as she adjusted the white scarf covering her blonde hair. She wasn’t used to seeing her reflection, mirrors were banned in her community as an instrument of vanity.            She blushed as Tim said, “You look beautiful.”            They strolled over to the large sinkhole where the luncheonette once stood, threw some stones in for good luck, and sat on the bench facing west to watch the sunset. She put her head on his shoulder and they simply sat in silence.             As the setting sun began to dip into the mountains Becky said, “I’d better be getting back home before Father gets back from town.”             Tim held her tight and said, “And I have to go meet my Dad in the woods. He’s expecting me.” He kissed her and said, “Tomorrow?”             “I can’t wait.”            “Good, I have a surprise for you.”            “You do? What is it?”            He said, “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise now would it?”            “No, it wouldn’t. I have a surprise for you too.”             They kissed again, this time neither one wanting to be the one to break off. As their lips parted Becky said, “I love you.” Tim said that he loved her more and that led to a few more minutes, and a few more kisses. When she that the sun was almost gone she pushed away laughing and left. Tim watched her run toward the covered bridge, leaping over the gaps in the pavement like a gazelle, her long blue gingham dress flowing. When she was out of his sight he started to run in the opposite direction. Neither one of them saw the man on the side street taking pictures of them.    



     [image error]

Photo from Chatanooga Times Free Press

I'm working on a story about a town like Centralia, Pennsylvania where an underground coal fire has been burning for decades. 

The tale of two star crossed teen lovers from different sides of a nearly abandoned village. He is the son of a moonshiner family and she is the daughter of a leader of a religious cult who believe they are guarding the gates of hell. As the flames from the coal fire burn under the ground the flames of their passion burn above.




Here is a teaser-























            It was a beautiful day for a romantic stroll down Main
Street in Centralia, Pennsylvania. The fading sunlight made the wisps of coal
smoke look like angels dancing in the air and the low-lying sulfur cloud took
on an ethereal hue of yellowish-orange. Despite the cool air of an autumn day,
the street was warm from the fires lurking in the Earth below. Tim and Becky
were barefoot on the warm macadam; their hands tightly clasped, and stars in
their eyes. They stopped in front of the boarded up remains of the high school and
Tim brushed a strand of Becky’s red hair from her eyes and leaned down to kiss
her.



            They
embraced and turned to see their reflections in the one remaining uncovered window.
“We look good together,” said Becky as she adjusted the white scarf covering
her blonde hair.



            “You
look beautiful.” She blushed.



            They
strolled over to the large sinkhole where the luncheonette once stood and threw
some stones in for good luck.            



             As
she saw the sun setting Becky said, “I’d better be getting back home before my Daddy
gets back from town.”



            Tim
held her tight and said, “And I have to go meet my Dad in the woods. He’s
expecting me.” 



            They
kissed again, this time neither one wanting to be the one to break off. As
their lips parted Becky said, “I love you.” Tim said that he loved her more and
that led to a few more minutes, and a few more kisses, before she looked at the
angle of the sun and left. Tim watched her run home, leaping over the gaps in the
pavement like a gazelle, her long blue gingham dress flowing. When she was out
of his sight he started to run in the opposite direction. Neither one of them
saw the man on the side street taking pictures of them.

After seeing Lance Armstrong come clean, sort of, I just wanted to state publicly, on the record, that at no time in writing my novels were any writing performance enhancing substances, other than caffeine, used. Well, I may have had a beer or two while writing, but that's it. [image error]

After seeing Lance Armstrong come clean, sort of, I just wanted to state publicly, on the record, that at no time in writing my novels were any writing performance enhancing substances, other than caffeine, used. Well, I may have had a beer or two while writing, but that's it. 

Thought I'd share this with everyone. I was selected Best Author for 2012 by the readers of Hudson Valley Magazine. I am quite honored and flattered by this and I'll be at the party at the Poughkeepsie Grand. Thanks to all who voted for me.

I have some exciting news to share with you in the next few days so keep an eye out.