Marker Bed

Well, after twenty-five years I’m pleased to announce that Marker Bed is finally published and ready for purchase on the Amazon website.

Our story takes place 300,000,000 years in the future, and while Marker Bed is a novel with heroes and a villain (and Xoix, of course), it is also an earth science primer. In my four-plus decades in front of a classroom, my goal has always been to craft a narrative of the earth and its processes in language that the layperson can understand, using examples that will resonate in each student’s life and experiences — whether they are three or ninety-three. I have made every effort to have Marker Bed adhere to the same guidelines.

So… wanna learn more about our marvelous planet — along with a glimpse of its future — in a plot that is absolutely certain to happen? If so, Marker Bed is for you. Now on the Amazon website, Marker Bed is currently available in hardback, paperback, and even a Kindle version (sorry, no audio at this time).

I do have one simple ask: If you read Marker Bed and find it worthwhile, can you please leave a short review? It doesn’t have to be a tome — a couple sentences are plenty — and it would make a huge difference for me. Positive or negative, I value your opinion (although positive is always appreciated).

Need more information before opening your wallet? The back-cover blurb reads something like this:

Marker Bed: (n) a widespread and unique event or horizon that represents a relatively brief span of geologic time.

When the earth is the subject, the best place to study is usually outside

Do you love the earth? You are not alone. So does Jarmo, who reveres the planet nearly as much as he loves Rosie (and Xoix, of course).

Humans are lucky: we have thumbs, allowing us to use tools and manipulate our environment. However, Marker Bed takes place in the future and humans have been extinct for three hundred million years… but thumbs have come again.

Jarmo, a recently graduated geologist, is treading water while Rosie, the most gifted anthropology student in generations, is pursuing her advanced degree under the tutelage of Professor Beeler — a difficult and demanding advisor.

Beeler has recruited a trio of students to survey three drainages on the unexplored Eastern Continent. Each will start at a primitive coastal community, and then journey upstream to locate additional villages. Jarmo and Xoix — his inseparable, furry companion — will accompany Rosie up the most promising of the rivers.

Even before leaving the coast, Jarmo encounters baffling fossils that had been crafted by processes he does not understand. Follow their adventures as he and Rosie — and Xoix, of course — witness the degeneration of Beeler as he battles his compulsions, and ultimately make an unexpected discovery about the earth’s past.

If you are hoping for a positive future for our planet, Marker Bed is for you. Lock in your copy, and get ready to feel more confident about the earth’s ability to survive us.

Sound interesting? If you want or need more, I offer a teaser from the beginning of Site Two:

Site Two: Preparations

“There are some things that it is better to begin than to refuse, even though the end may be dark.” —Aragorn, son of Arathorn

“A man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest.” —The Boxer

“When the shepherd is a wolf, the flock becomes only so much meat.” —Gurney Halleck

Rosie came home excited. It didn’t take much to get her worked up, and she was certainly in a blather this time. She had an impulsive enthusiasm that was utterly contagious—if it had been a disease, everybody within a hundred kilas would have been terminal. But all she had was a passion for life and learning, and since life is all anybody really has and each moment offers its own unique lesson, Rosie was pretty much high all the time.

So, when the direction and focus of her advanced studies finally crystallized, she was understandably pleased.

∆

She bubbled through the door about an hour before Jarmo—plenty of time to pour herself a splash of wine and get ready: start a fire; tidy up the cottage; brush her teeth and hair. Tonight’s the night, and I need to be at my best.

He arrived somewhat before sunset. The boys had reached a good stopping point and knocked off earlier than usual—they were barely half done with Yarik’s retaining wall, but continued to make steady progress while enjoying their time together. Neither was in any real hurry to get the rockwork finished (although that was soon to change).

A light drizzle had built into steady rain as he and Xoix walked the paths leading back to the cabin, the leafless trees skeletal in the failing light. Actually, it was Jarmo doing the walking—for Xoix it was more of a trot, as he again verified that this familiar route remained safe; unconcerned about any water falling from the sky, and reaffirming that reality was still in its proper shape. What a good boy.

The skies had been threatening all day, with lowering and thickening clouds borne upon a stiffening wind from the sea—pregnant with moisture and the sultry promise of a wet and wild evening. It hadn’t yet been a moon since the winter solstice, and the days remained dismally short. Black night would fall swiftly.

Rosie met him at the door with a deep, slushy kiss and a mug of ale. A whiff and a taste told him it was the draft they could only afford on very special occasions. Jarmo knew right away that something was up.

She was nearly incandescent, sparking like a restive cloud of torchflies in a balmy summer twilight—blinking on and off from everywhere all at once, and together bringing energy and purpose to their little corner of the universe.

“Oh my, look who’s having a good day!” Jarmo leaned away to establish some space. A guy had to be careful at a time like this—standing too close could result in second-degree burns. “Let me guess… the department posted the final selections?”

“Yes!” Rosie nearly erupted. “And we’re in. We even get the northern site!”

Jarmo tilted back in and gave her a hug. It was like being buried in wet sand during a lightning storm. “So, this is really gonna happen?” He leaned out again.

Somewhat tightly wound, Rosie bristled. “Are you surprised?” Her voice was a trifle accusatory, yet hopeful. For all of her gifts, Rosie was just as insecure as the rest of us. This was a time of tremendous intensity and stress, and her emotional vulnerabilities were fully exposed. High passion can go in any direction—it just needs to be going in some direction.

She didn’t have to worry…

“Not at all. I’ve known you’d be selected ever since last fall. As soon as they started talking about it publicly, you were already in.” Jarmo gripped both her shoulders and planted a quick peck on the end of her freckled nose. “You’re the best grad student in the department, Rosie—no one else even comes close. Beeler’s had you pegged for this since your third year.” His eyes held her tightly. “Hell, probably since your second.”

Rosie returned his gaze, her azurite-blue peepers probing deeply into his malachite-green. A faint quiver rippled her lower lip. “Will you go with me? Please?” And there it was, naked and bald and hovering between them like a tiny and oh so delicate hummer: would it gently dip nectar from the flower… or poke her in the eye with its needle-sharp proboscis?

They’d discussed the possibility of the trip on many occasions, but now it was for real. I can’t go without you, she thought, but the choice has to be yours. Please go, she willed him, sending out her need and desire like waves rolling across the open sea. Please, please, please go. She took Jarmo’s damp face in her warm and tender hands and gave him a tentative kiss.

Her sincerity and hope melted him on the spot—a big puddle of Jarmo, oozing across the hardwood.

Rosie took note of his reaction and kissed him again, this time not so tentatively.

Before branding her a hussy, you should probably know that none of this kissy-face, huggy-body routine was intended as a bribe—such a ploy would never even cross her mind. But she was Rosie and she was a redhead, and she already knew he’d go. And if he couldn’t? Well, it would be for a valid reason they could both accept.

She also knew, regardless of his intentions, that Jarmo would support her in going—he loved her and championed her drives and motivations, and was always on her side. Rosie appreciated his steadfast anchor as much as she needed it.

And beyond all of that, the long and the short of it was she simply liked kissing him. Three years on, and it still made her tingle from eyebrows to toenails.

From Jarmo’s perspective, there wasn’t any decision to make. Rosie was Rosie, and he was totally hooked on everything about her. He could no more let her down than fly to Luna on gossamer wings. But the attention was nice.

Never one to micromanage something already working, Jarmo kissed her back.

“Am I even allowed? I’ve never felt that Professor Beeler cares for me very much.” Jarmo leaned out and took a sip of ale, his brow furrowed. “Maybe it would be better if I didn’t go,” he temporized, just to tease her a bit.

“Beeler likes you just fine.” Rosie didn’t need or want any additional preamble; the kisses had been enough. “And anyway, he won’t be with us for long—only as far as the second village. Then we’ll be on our own.”

She smiled up at him, her eyes glittering chips of mica flashing in desert sands. “Don’t you think you should get out of those wet clothes? You’ll catch your death.”

Well, what with one thing leading to another, pretty soon it was twenty minutes later.

If this sounds like something you might be interested in, Marker Bed is currently available in hardback, paperback, and digital versions.

I want to thank you in advance for validating my efforts, and please submit a review. Positive comments are always appreciated, but honesty is better.

Thanks, and I hope you enjoy Marker Bed as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you do, please tell your friends…