The Aeronaut and Escape Vector

The Aeronaut and Escape Vector - Signed Pre-Orders

As many of you are aware, my collection of short stories, Escape Vector, and my new novel, The Aeronaut, are both coming next month.

Escape Vector is a dozen stories of science fiction, all of them space opera, and it's a collection I couldn't be more proud of.

The Aeronaut is a literary steampunk tale that I've poured my heart and soul into and tells the tale of Robert Preston. Preston is an American expatriate who joined the French Aeronautic Corps during World War I. Through his adventures on the battlefield and in the hospital, he meets a woman who cures his death wish, but French Intelligence has other plans for him.

I'm incredibly excited for both of these and hope you are, too.

I will be having signing events and readings local to me in Salt Lake City and there will be some more in other places through next year, but many have asked for a way to get signed physical copies directly through me.

This is how to do that. All you need to do is use the Paypal button below and I'll get these mailed out as soon as I have the physical copies which should be on or around November 11, 2015.

I'll personalize them however you want, just be sure to leave a note.

And more than anything, thank you all so much for supporting my career as a writer over all these years. Your kind words, your reviews of the books, and the fact that you keep paying for them, has made this journey both wonderful and possible.

Both books retail for $15, but if you order them together here, it's only $25 plus shipping.

If you're interested in digital copies, please go preorder The Aeronaut from Amazon here. Helping the book climb up the charts prior to release would help me immensely.

ALSO: If you need International Shipping outside the United States, let me know and I can invoice you separately for the cost of shipping.

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Anatomy of a Scene - City Lights

We're going to break down another scene this week, and it's one of my favorites in cinema history. It comes from the ending of City Lights by Charlie Chaplin, which I think is the greatest romantic comedy ever made. It's a touching film from 1931 and I would make it mandatory viewing for anyone who wants to learn to tell a story. The scene we're going to be breaking down comes from the very end of the film, so if you haven't seen it, I don't want to spoil it for you. Go watch the film. You can rent it for $3.99 in HD on Amazon or for free on Hulu with a free trial or plus subscription. You should just buy the Blu-ray, though. You're going to want to revisit it. For those of you familiar with the movie, or for those of you who are going to ignore my pleas to watch it and go ahead with this post anyway, I'm going to set this clip up a bit before you watch it. City Lights tells the story of Chaplin's Tramp and how he falls in lov

Anatomy of a Scene: The Third Man

It's time again to break down a classic scene. One that's well-written and, in my view, a fine example of excellent craft. I've done some of these articles from books (like The End of the Affair and Starship Troopers ) and other movies (like Citizen Kane , City Lights , Raiders of the Lost Ark , and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid ), but now it's time to take a look at a scene from The Third Man . It blends the best of Orson Welles (as he's in the film and drives this scene) and Graham Greene, who wrote this particular screenplay. Before we get to the scene, we need some context. The Third Man is a tale of the black market in Vienna, just after World War II. It's about a cheap, dime-store Western novelist named Holly Martins (played by Joseph Cotton) and his friend Harry Lime (Orson Welles.) Lime offered Martins a job in Vienna, so Martins leaves America and arrives, only to find that Harry Lime is dead. Penniless, without a friend or reason to be

The Missed Opportunities of Days Gone By

“Hello?” I said into the phone, accepting the call from a number I didn’t recognize. “Hey,” the feminine voice on the other replied, as though I should know the sound of her voice. At a loss, I said, “Can I help you?” “It’s Brooke.” Her name stopped me. It couldn’t possibly be her. We hadn’t spoken in years, a decade perhaps. “Brooke?” “Yeah, Brooke Baker. This is Mark, right?” Jesus Christ. It was her. “Yeah, it is Mark. Brooke. Wow. How are you? It’s been a long time since… well… since anything.” “I know.” “So, how are you doing?” “Okay, I suppose…” Her voice belied her words, though. Something was up. “I… It’s just been so long and I guess I wanted to hear your voice.” “I don’t think I had a number for you. Ever. I offered a couple of times, but…” “I was a brat back then.” And that’s how a random phone call turned into a two-and-a-half hour catch-up session. We spoke of everything under the sun: people we still knew, how different we were, h

The stories of Bryan Young

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