What I am going try to do is at least start a novel. I'll write a few pages and if I decide it is going well then I will keep at it. Otherwise I will attempt a much shorter piece of fiction. Either way I'd like to step away from poetry. Poetry is what I am good at and interested in but I feel that a writer should have the knowledge and ability to write in all genres. The main problem I have always had is dialogue. I guess I have difficulties with its structure and presentation within text. Even in narrative poetry, the dialogue is somewhat limited and therefore the poet does not have to do much work with it in the poem.

My idea for the novel involves a setting in Africa which will eventually shift back to the Americas. A prince of some African country (need to do a little research) that takes many wives and lovers has contracted AIDS. He makes an American woman working with AIDS patients and imprisons. His conquest is one of a sexual nature. She contracts the HIV virus. The story discusses the implications that this has on her life. My idea for an ending involves her confronting the Prince. The reason I want to write a story like this involves the growing problem with AIDS in Africa and how industrialized nations are attempting to combat this problem. I think I'm also trying to show how this disease can affect anyone of any gender, race, nationality and sexuality.

Shadow puppets on the wall
Its the way they move without a sound.
A congress of dark animals marching along
as it becomes more than a silent journey.Where is the rain of mana?
Where is the essence and the energy?
Ignore the light, it is not holy.
Ignore the path, it is infested with mothers warmth.Shadow puppets blend with the night.
Hands clasped together in solitary silence.
Interplay of light and shadow
as they dance in the shining aura.I want my golden idol back.
I would rather join that martyred lamb in hell.
Instead I ride through the desert on an ass you've provided
thinking, "I'd rather drink my own piss than your wine.

Shadow puppets fade with your Sun.
They fold quietly into every ray
as all your left with is two stone slabs
and a bit of melted gold.