INTRODUCTION
John A. Pitts
Who am I, you might ask, to write an introduction to this lovely collection by Ken Scholes? Damn good question. I’ve known Ken for over a decade. We met just after my daughter was born, and we became fast friends. Ken frequently recounts that I’m his first writing buddy. We met at a writers workshop where we both learned we were better suited to critiquing each other’s work, and leaving the rest of the crew to their own devices.
Over the next twelve years, we grew together, each of us maturing our writing craft until we began to sell. We wrote our first novels at the same time, racing each other to the finish line. He beat me by less than twelve hours.
I’ve read every single word Ken has written over the last twelve years, and each story is a gem. If you run into him in a bar at some convention, ask him about “Blakely in his Heart.” That’s the first of his stories I read, and I may be the only other person on the planet who has seen its many incarnations.
Ken is a tinker, a crafter of words. He enjoys the juxtaposition of odd ideas and exposing the deep emotional resonance of the varied characters that populate his worlds. It’s a gift he has, seeing the world around us in story and metaphor. He has played guitar for a couple of decades, even going so far as busking on the streets in Germany in his army days. He loves to sing and write his own songs. I’ve seen him work a room with music and wit, keeping the crowd entertained by his presence and his will.This, I believe, is what makes his writing so strong.
Ken is a strong introvert who bleeds energy in a crowd, but he loves people so much, that he finds it difficult to avoid the parties and the group gatherings that expose him to so many good people.
I think you’ll begin to get a glimmer of just who Ken Scholes is when you read this collection — this is his second gathering of paper children. You are in for a treat. The stories inside here will catch you by surprise.
If you’re a fan of his Psalms of Isaac series, you’ll love the opening story, “A Weeping Czar Beholds the Fallen Moon.” It’s set in the same world, only much, much earlier in history. This is a good example of what makes Ken’s stories work so well — stunning language and deep emotional resonance. You will be lifted up with the elegance of his prose.
Ken’s a master story teller. I’ve watched his natural talent blossom over the last dozen years through hard work and persistence to make him one of the most eclectic and enjoyable storytellers I’ve ever read.
And I’m not just saying that because we are friends. Take a gander at “Grail-Diving in Shangrilla with the World’s Last Mime,” which wraps the collection, and tell me he doesn’t have a wicked sense of humor and strong story muscles. Post-apocalyptic, cross-dressing Baptist minister and his roving band of cohorts searching for the holy grail in a ravaged world, while fending off attacks from all quarters. How can you not stop reading this introduction and turn to the story immediately? I’ll understand. Go ahead. I’ll wait.
And the titles — oy — don’t get me started. Every one is evocative and demands you read further just to see what story could be worth such an elaborate moniker.
Every tale here is chock full of parable and wit. He can turn a phrase with the best of them and take you places you never imagined existed. We all know that there are no new stories — not since man first learned to rub two sticks together. But if you pick up this collection, take the time to peruse the words, you will find that Ken has an uncanny ability to drive to the heart of story, and leave you sated in a way that may embarrass the good company.
There isn’t a weak story in the lot. I’m equally fascinated with the story behind the story. I can pinpoint the event that spurred every story in this collection. He’ll fill you in at the end.
Now, we’ve had our differences, and even got into a significant fight once. I’d just returned from a two week workshop with Kris Rusch and Dean Wesley Smith. I was full of energy and new found enthusiasm. I tried to convince Ken that he should be writing novels. This was back when he thought novels were beyond his skill. It was a pretty quiet fight, as far as they go, but it really put him off. He thought maybe I’d lost my mind, and we’d stop being friends. He even wrote a story about the way he felt at the time—a touching piece called “The Night the Stars Sang Out My Name.” It’s telling in the detail just how much he and I have become the best of friends. Luckily, I calmed down a bit — mellowed — and he found his long legs.
Too be completely open here, you might notice that “There Once Was a Girl From Nantucket (A Fortean Love Story)” was co-written by yours truly. I think it’s one of the more poignant stories in the collection, and not for the rhyming scheme. It was the second time we came to loggerheads. Collaborating is hard work, and teaches writers as much about themselves as about their writing partners. I know I am better for the experience, and the story is pretty fine. I look forward to sharing more worlds with Mr. Scholes.
But right now, that’s what you need to do. Go share Ken’s worlds. Immerse yourself in his psyche and enjoy.