Authors: David Morrell
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Suspense Fiction, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Adventure, #Science Fiction, #Men's Adventure, #Time Capsules
Table of Contents
ALSO BY DAVID MORRELL
The Hundred-Year Christmas
The Brotherhood of the Rose
The Fraternity of the Stone
Rambo (First Blood, Part II)
The League of Night and Fog
The Fifth Profession
The Covenant of the Flame
The Totem (Complete and Unaltered)
Captain America: The End
John Barth: An Introduction
Fireflies: A Father’s Tale of Love and Loss
American Fiction, American Myth (Essays by Philip Young)
edited by David Morrell and Sandra Spanier (2000)
Lessons from a Lifetime of Writing: A Novelist Looks at His Craft
Authors don’t work in a vacuum.
wouldn’t have been written without support from a lot of people. I’m grateful to the following:
Jane Dystel, Miriam Goderich, Michael Bourret, and the good folks at Dystel Goderich Literary Management.
Roger Cooper, Chris Nakamura, Peter Costanzo, and the rest of the team at Vanguard Press and the Perseus Books Group.
Nanci Kalanta at
Eric Gray and Mike Volpe at Jet Aviation, Teterboro Airport.
Sarie Morrell. The last name’s the same as mine for a reason. She’s my daughter. But she’s also my friend and one of the most inventive book publicists I know.
I had monuments made of bronze, lapis lazuli, alabaster and white limestone and inscriptions of baked clay . . . and I deposited them in the foundations and left them for future times.
ESARHADDON, King of Assyria
Seventh Century, B.C.
I had an assignment the other day. Someone asked me to write a letter for a time capsule that was going to be opened in Los Angeles a hundred years from now. . . . It sounded like an easy assignment. They suggested I write something about the prob- lems and issues of the day, and I set out to do so, riding down the coast in an automobile, looking at the blue Pacific out on one side and the Santa Ynez Mountains on the other, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was going to be that beautiful a hundred years from now as it was on that summer day. And then, as I tried to write . . . let your minds turn to that task. You’re going to write for people a hundred years from now who know all about us. We know nothing about them. We don’t know what kind of world they’ll be living in.
from a speech at the 1976 Republican
National Convention after failing to receive
his party’s presidential nomination
THE CRYPT OF CIVILIZATION
He no longer called her by his dead wife’s name, even though the resemblance was strong enough to make his heart ache. Sometimes, when he woke and found her sitting next to his hospital bed, he thought he was hallucinating.