Authorpreneur Dashboard – Jedah Mayberry

Jedah  Mayberry

The Unheralded King of Preston Plains Middle

Literature & Fiction

Trajan Hopkins is the prototypical adolescent male, protected on all sides by the soft cushion of family. He worships his brother, Langston, invariably from a crouched defensive position in an effort to fend off the latest sequence of moves his brother is working to perfect. Langston is widely regarded around town as Preston's most prolific fighter, steeped in martial arts, his ambition set on someday reaching the Olympic stage. Trajan fits neatly inside his brother's shadow, the dutiful second seed. When his brother dies, it's like one leg of a chair goes missing, warping Trajan's sense of connection to anybody near to him. He ventures into the world alone, steps out on the call of the wind, the rise of the moon, the tide pulling against him. He returns at the end of the night to diminished ties, the weave of familiar cues strewn loose about him, waves crashing in, pushing him ever further from the shelter of home.

Book Bubbles from The Unheralded King of Preston Plains Middle

Bloodhound

I'm always intrigued to learn which aspects of the story mirror the fiction writer's life. This is one lifted directly from my adolescence. My friends and I worked nights, cleaning at the public library and the adjacent senior center. We did a lot of growing up in those late night hours, swapping stories (mostly about girls we liked) and sharing dreams (also coincidentally about girls more often than not). The work got done. But not without a fair amount of horsing around along the way. Good times.

Giving Thanks

The Unheralded King continues to find its way into hands I don't necessarily get to see. A second book is on its way, the contract signed and posted just the other day. The world continues to turn and the people I most care about are still in it. Enjoy the holiday.

iWrite, iSkate

There was a time in life where all my problems could be worked out atop the deck of my skateboard, the wind rushing past my ears. It was inevitable that Trajan take up skateboarding as well given my love for the pastime. These days, I still ride on occasion. It’s more for recreation than any serious problem solving. But the urge still grabs me every now and again. I got a new skateboard for Christmas, emblazoned with an image of the book cover. Look for a photo of me on IG: https://www.instagram.com/jedah.mayberry/. A huge grin comes to my face every time I take it out.

Four Fall Colors

The seasons changing helps to bring me back to a place and time, allowing a scene to take shape in my head. The color of the leaves littering the curbside as well as those yet to fall, the crisp bite in the morning air, the odd coloring of an early evening sky. Things we have seen before, yet their presence marks an unmistakable departure from those carefree, warm summer days.

Sunshine and Rain

In honor of my mother's birthday. Happy Birthday, Ma!

Surrogates: Boys Raising Boys

On the heels of another father's day, my mind is lost wondering about the boys left without a father, working to find their way in the world. How will they make it? How did my friends and I make it? With the support of one another simply put. Still, we made it. Hold your boys close. That's my advice to all the fathers in the world, whether you and your son sleep beneath the same roof. Hold him close in your arms and never let go.

Graduation Night

Our eldest graduated high school yesterday. I'm extremely proud of the person she has become though I'm not feeling especially sentimental. I'm taking it in stride, this just another step in the natural progression of her and her sister making their respective ways in the world, moving beyond our reach. Still, I want to share a piece of the book culled from memories of my high school graduation. Congratulations! Go out there and make your mark on the world.

On Mothering a Child

Mother's play a unique role in a child's upbringing. Both parents have a role to play for anyone lucky enough to be raised in a two parent household. But mothers share an unparalleled bond with their offspring. It must have something to do with the umbilical cord, the connection persisting as the child grows. Happy Mother's Day! You are appreciated.

Flypaper - a tribute to Major League Baseball

You don't realize what you truly love until you look back at the things that creep over and over again into the stories you have written. Baseball was a huge part of my upbringing, starting with Little League. It is the one major sport I will make a point to go see live. Attribute it to nostalgia plus a keen interest to be outdoors as much as possible when the spring/summer weather chooses to cooperate. With nearly every major narrative, I have managed to sneak in some small baseball reference. With the start of the MLB season, I give you FLYPAPER.

Brown-Eyed Pea

Langston is the kid who stands out on one side of town because of his color then fails to fit in on the other side of town despite proximity to people who look more like him. He practices material arts rather than play football or basketball. He and his brother get their hair cut by their father in their downstairs bathroom meaning neither of them has ever visited either of the black owned barbershops in town. Forever on the outskirts, he must work to find his niche despite suffering numerous setbacks.

Renewal

My bio boldly states on one forum or another that I am a fearless father of two teenage girls. Our worth as parents will seldom be put to a greater test than the day we are tasked with teaching our teenagers to drive. The younger of the two has started a bit early, the other a bit late saddling me with responsibility for teaching both nearly simultaneously - the horror (insert Home Alone face here)! I have turned to Grandpa Tuke for guidance given his easy way of contending with any ordeal, big or small. Today, I seek his guidance on the task of providing driving lessons for an overzealous teenager - two in fact. Wish me luck.

My Wire

I binge watched HBO's The Wire over the holiday. It is one of my favorite dramatic series. I admire it as much for the writing, the dialogue as the grit. Such an honest depiction–I spent two summers in Baltimore during grad school. I won't say it's a place I know well, but I can attest to the strangle hold the drug trade has had throughout The Charm City. I suspect every city on the planet has its Wire. This is mine. Luscius Brand is my favorite kind of villain. He’s a charismatic drug dealer, wrestling with decisions in his life as time and age creep in on him. He sees the end looming for him one way or another: slipping quietly from existence or extinguished in a white hot flash.

Many Thanks

As the year comes to a close, I reflect on how far we've come, the accolades, the accomplishments, new opportunities undertaken, personal connections made. Again, I thank all of you who helped me get here, who continue to support my writing endeavors. All the best to you and yours. I look forward to 2015.

Backseat Kinship

Losing a sibling is ultimately a story about death. It is also at its core a story of survival. Trajan's existence is threatened by the loss of his brother. The entire family finds themselves on life support struggling to right their world again, to get on with life after the loss of a grandson, a brother, a son. This is where Trajan's story of survival begins, after losing his older brother.

The Call Home

The story is drawn along three major threads. Trajan is the principal character. Having lost his only brother, he ventures into the world alone. He eventually crosses paths with Luscius Brand, the most revered drug dealer in the area. Trajan manages to escape the lure of the drug trade. However, his proximity to a local drug lord would cause his mother great distress were she not locked inside her room, unaware of her son's whereabouts. Ezrah Sessions, E-Z, is the older brother to Trajan's neighborhood best friend. Upon joining the tribal police force, he begins to mistake the authority bestowed on him for power, seeks every opportunity to exercise his might, to test his worth against increasingly formidable opponents, Luscius Brand among them. It's a live incarnation of rock, paper, scissors. E-Z is forever mindful of the threat Luscius poses. Luscius in turn is caught off guard by Trajan's honest outlook on the world. Is leery of the things Trajan might be inclined to tell having stumbled across some of Luscius's handiwork on a pass through Fort Shantok one snow filled night. Meanwhile, Trajan simply wishes to elude E-Z's grasp. Recognizes how unstable he has become left to run open loop. Looks to reattach himself to the stable anchors in his world, his mother, his father, his Grandpa Tuke.

Simple Pursuit

We set out in life with the narrowest of focus, a simple pursuit, a passion, a dream. Perhaps the dream is not so simple. Langston inherits an interest in martial arts from his and Trajan's father. As he gains proficiency in the sport, that interest becomes an obsession. He sets his sights on competing at the Olympic level, compromises many aspects of his personal life in pursuit of this obsession. Even after injury dashes hopes of achieving that goal, this singular pursuit continues to fuel his passions.

Where the Wild Things Are - Maurice Sendak

This was my father's favorite book. Had he lived to see my book published, I suspect there are things he would not have liked, the circumstance surrounding Langston and Trajan's parents' breakup likely landing a bit too close to home. I recognize that I could not have written it as honestly had I known he would be there to read it. Still, I think he would have been proud to see me step out on a limb, to tell the story in full even those parts that carry a little sting. Wherever he is, I hope he's where the wild things are.

Dislocation

Dislocation relates a sense of being disconnected from the people, places, and things we hold most dear. It can take many forms: an athlete taken away from the sport that drives his/her passion due to a debilitating injury, a change of schools, a lost love, a once happy household ultimately breaking apart. And, there is perhaps no greater blow than a parent losing a child. Where do we turn to reorient ourselves, to ground ourselves again in the outside world? How do we get on with our lives, disconnected from that one thing we once regarded as vital to our existence? How do you love again after witnessing the greatest love you've known turn to dust?

Language and Song

The storyline compelled me to include language and song, some of which extends beyond my native tongue. But those characters play a part in the story too. I felt their voices, spoken in their native tongues, needed to be heard. In the end, I discovered that I speak people. I may need to borrow their language to get there – PR Spanish, Caribbean French, Haitian Kreyol. But I get there and if I’m able will bring the reader along with me in the clearest light I know how to produce. After all, I am people too.

Masquerade

As writers, we're instructed not to write about the weather. I find weather lends perspective, can evoke a mood, set a tone. Trajan's mother's perspective on the loss of her eldest son is reflected in the scene she sees outside her window, traces of early days with her sons filtering in from the outside world.

Innocents

Trajan's perspective is reflected in how he begins to view the world, the things he encounters without his brother's lead to follow.

Family Christmas

In writing about brothers, it is inevitable that the storyline extend to encompass the perspective of the mother, the father, a grandparent or two. They too play a part in the narrative. They share in any triumph the brothers experience, take full part in their despair. Good times precede bad times if luck holds true.

The Call of Home

I had the benefit of living away from the place where I grew up THEN returning to write about it. It shapes your lens, shades your perspective. You find wonder in everyday things, things local eyes no longer take the time to see. Having come from someplace is the one universal theme–a mother, a father, a place you once called home, however fleeting, had a hand in shaping who you are today. And, more than anything, each of us deserves a place to call home.

Sycamore

I have an older sister, but brothers and sisters develop separate interests, maintain separate groups of friends. I have always been fascinated by the interaction between brothers, one drafting behind the other, trying to fit his older brother's shadow. There's something pure in the bond they share. No matter how far life takes them, they will always have each other. It’s a comforting notion encouraging each brother to venture farther than he otherwise might, armed with the knowledge that his anchor is secure in his rear view mirror.

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