Here's the first 250 of the opening. Don't know if this is relevant or not, but this chapter is a prologue and was published on its own in a literary journal; I'm posting it because there has been restructuring of the novel and I'm curious to see how it's working (in prior versions, this section occurred near the middle).
Change in the House of Light
Monday, January 12, 2004, South Lake Tahoe, California, 7:00 a.m.:
Fingers whisper names and torments through your hair. Your room comes to you in the morning light like a swinging door, destroying the night by its sweep. You do not remember sleeping. You remember the drive back from Mendocino in the dark, the mountain pass, the January cold. Drifts of snow on the roadsides. Highway 50 a bridge of ice in the frozen polelights. You remember getting home, embracing your mom, walking up the stairs to your bedroom. Afraid to sleep because of the dreams, guilty to sleep because of what you’d seen, what you had done and failed to do. You do not remember sleeping.
A glacial winter morning. Your mother crouches over you. Crying. Her hand floats away. It settles on your forearm.
Then she tells you.
Blake I… I’m sorry. Conner didn’t make it.
The room is full of sunshine. Hazy, blinding. Gazing at the hand on your forearm you can’t stand the feel of human touch. Swooning, the mattress dissolves beneath you. You feel as if your guts have been yanked out and spread before you, cut open, waiting to be studied. The walls explode and your mother is far away, as if at the end of a great corridor.
Conner didn’t make it.
Conner is dead.