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Through the Kindness of Ravens


Through the Kindness of Ravens

An unkindness of ravens, so black the dark is afraid of them; so is Jakeb Hoke. However, maybe Jakeb is the one truly in the dark, and the ravens, the light at the end of his tunnel.

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Through the Kindness of Ravens


Through the Kindness of Ravens

An unkindness of ravens, so black the dark is afraid of them; so is Jakeb Hoke. However, maybe Jakeb is the one truly in the dark, and the ravens, the light at the end of his tunnel.

Through the Kindness of Ravens

The Evolution of Hoke's Focus

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Scarecrows don’t sweat…

Not a scarecrow, but a victim. Victim, if found, found affixed upon wooden cross…a crow-cifix.


A best-selling novelist, world-renowned photographer, artist and inventor, Jakeb Hoke loves life and loves being in control. But one fateful evening, a simple climb up his basement stairs finds his world crashing into oblivion and leaves his life hanging by a thread.

The trouble is, Jakeb has a lot to live for. His newest invention, Hoke's Focus, has the power to transform the manipulation of light, imagery and even time in photography. Plans are already underway to unveil the discovery, one that has remained a closely guarded secret--an amazing feat considering how famous he is-- to all but Jakeb's closest friends.

Now, crushed under the weight of his collapsed house, but still very much alive, Jakeb can smell and taste death--but has not yet succumbed to it. Instead, his mind wanders to what was and what will be. In the context of space and time, such thoughts can carry more power, and bear witness to more darkness, than he could ever imagine.

Brilliant, dark and daring in scope, Through the Kindness of Ravens delivers a fascinating, complex glimpse into the post-modern future where the survival of art and humanity cannot be promised, where the art of light becomes a catalyst for survival.

Select and click a button below to order…

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From The American Heritage Dictionary:

scare•crow (skar′ krō′) ►n. A crude figure set up in a cultivated area to scare birds away.

From Ethan Whipp’s Mental Dictionary:

scream•crow (skrēm krō′) ►n. A crude figure set up by the uncultivated area of a psycho’s mind to scare voices away.
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Grandpa Makes a Wrong Turn

 

I’m headin’ to a birthday party

It’s way out in the boonies

My grandpa’s goin’ to drop me off

Each mile, he gets more moody

 

Even the dashboard compass is lost

 

He curses under his breath

“Damn invitation map!”

Drive and read … drive and read

The card lay opened in his lap

 

He’s “pissed” I learn

He’s missed the turn

But that’s not all he’s missed

Across a barren field

A scarecrow draped upon crucifix

A crow-cifix

 

While Gramps performs a five-point turn

His face has now turned red

I stare across this barren field

And swear it turned its head

 

Grandpa apologized

“It’s too late now—I’ll just have to take you home.”

“Okay,” I said, all frightened now,

Too scared to be left alone

One’s fear is often associated with what they cannot see, but should equally exist for what can see them.
— rAveNswAn
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"Listen to the words of the mile-marker birds. They'll tell you when you've gone astray and wrong, and which way you should turn."

"Listen to the words of the mile-marker birds. They'll tell you when you've gone astray and wrong, and which way you should turn."

The optimist knows the glass is half full;
The realist, not to drop it.
— rAveNswAn

The message...

Eyes of black
deep chasm cold
and yet white hot
they’re burning holes.
— rAveNswAn
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Chant of the Scarecrow Maker

End to a means, but not in vain
Although it means your death storm’s rain
Just place your voice into this sack
Its umbrella will make all pain go black
— the Screambagger
 
He With The Moon In His Mouth

He With The Moon In His Mouth

Bones and marrow, straight and narrow! Caws if you don’t boy, no tomorrow!
— The King of the mile-marker birds, Albert Cornelius Whipp
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Hanging by a thread...

Jakeb Hoke does not know it, but his life hangs by a thread. 

If he could select the type, he might want a thread woven of spider web.  Pound for pound, it is the strongest tensile strength, and with a cord the size of a braid of steel wire, he stands a good chance of seeing the light of another day. 

Jakeb, however, does not get to choose.  His thread consists of a nearly fifty-year-old beam of light.

Not to suggest you can toss a drowning man a beam light from your grandpa’s flashlight, as if it were a line from a fishing rod.  As ridiculous as that may sound, it seems more plausible than that which Jakeb depends.

In his case, it is not the source of light that is almost fifty years old, but the beam of light itself; his thread is one of time.

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rAveNswAn takes flight

Click the link below to check out my latest novel, The Kite and the Coin Toss, and stay tuned for status updates regarding its publishing.