Recently I've received an acceptance letter and a publishing contract 
from the publisher to whom I've submitted my book manuscript. Brief 
joy evaporated as I read the contract. It says that I market the book 
with my own expense, reasoning that the book has been published before.
When? Then I realized that they meant the book campaign I ran on 
Kindle Scout a month ago. 

Before running the campaign, I had thought I should find a literary 
agent or publisher first. But I didn't want to wait a few months to 
get a response from them. So I ran the campaign unsuccesfully which 
turned out to be a pitfall that hinders my effort to find 
a publisher.

This publisher wants e-book publishing right also. I've converted 
my manuscript into an ebook format myself, and I want to keep 
e-book publishing right to myself. So I've decided not to sign 
the contract. I've published it with Amazon.

The editor of the publishing company says that my book 
Infinite Deluge resonates.  

To buy the book, please click the link below
Thank you so much for your support.


by Byung A. Fallgren

Seeing my father in myself

IMG_2245 copy

While the little son
climbs up the ladder
in sheer joy of act,
Father envisions
Son’s glory on the horizon.
Son’s foot slips,
Father closes his eyes,
fighting not to think of
Son’s misfortune.
Son tumbles down,
Father’s heart skips
a beat or two. He mutters,
My son, you can be
makes your life easier.

©by Byung A. Fallgren

Stream, footprints within


Flow of the melting snow,
the broken water of
Nature’s womb,
before the arrival of spring,
one of her many memories.

Stream knows the footprints within,
the winter hunters’ scent on the
rock, his cigaret butt wedged
between the stones, she mimics
the hunters’ voices.

Doe he’d let go rests by the shrub,
expects to give birth soon, The
stream knows the footprints
within, the reticent keeper of
the story they left behind.

©by Byung A. Fallgren

Dove and the young man

Removing the cracked
concretes on my driveway, he
mocks the cooing dove,
do do doo, do do doo.
Might he think:
what will I do tomorrow?
This isn’t what I should do
on the weekend,
while my friends fishing,
hiking with their girl friends.
He kicks the concrete piece then
hums. I almost hear him singing:
I work at the bottom
today, I may do the same thing
tomorrow but at the top,
a contracter, encouraging
the young men like me,
‘you are building for
tomorrow formidable
as concrete.’
Dove recites the words
as the young man hums.

by Byung A. Fallgren