Until September – Book Excerpt

Welcome, friend! Today I am chatting with author Harker Jones about his book, Until September. Let’s welcome Harker and learn more about the book!

---

Get to know the author: Harker Jones

Welcome Harker! Tell me and my readers a bit about yourself!

I’m an author and screenwriter based in Los Angeles. I grew up in rural Michigan and have been a writer since I was a child. I wrote my first novel, a slasher-whodunit when I was 17. I attended Eastern Michigan University from which I graduated with a bachelor’s degree with a double major in written communication and telecommunications and film, and a minor in literature. I wrote my second book, “Until September,” soon after graduation. I then moved to Los Angeles, where I was managing editor of “Out” magazine for seven years, then spent two in gay porn before moving to Disney Publishing. I’m now developmental editor for Level 4 Press and write screenplays. I have two successful short films, “Cole & Colette” and “One-Hit Wonder”, that have been accepted to more than 60 film festivals combined and have won several awards. I write predominantly features, which I am actively pitching to producers and just waiting for the stars to align and I start selling them. I live with my partner of 18½ years and our demon-cat Holly. I’m a member of the Los Angeles Drama Critics Circle and write reviews for Broadway World, so I see a lot of stage shows. I’m also a member of Mensa. So weird that I’m in Mensa! Who is in Mensa?!

What inspired you to write this book?

Post-college I was suffering from a bout of unrequited love for this beautiful, bookish boy. Naturally, he had a boyfriend, so I channeled all those feelings into a book. What else would a writer do? Literally none of “Until September” is based on him or even my life in general, but the feelings gave me such inspiration that I created a whole world for my characters far outside my own youth. Though I never got to know that boy who inspired my book, I’m grateful his feelings were not reciprocal. This book is far more valuable than a 6-month romance at age 22!

How long did it take you to write this book, from the first idea to the last edit?

It all started 20 or so years ago. I was a receptionist at a very, very small computer programming firm in Ann Arbor, Michigan, and there was so little for me to do, I wrote “Until September” while at work, emailing portions of it to myself. I went through several iterations of it, tinkering with it through many rewrites and taking years off from it when I had completed a cycle. I’m not one of those authors who is crippled by writer’s block, propped in front of a blank Word doc, anguishing that inspiration is not forthcoming. If the muses aren’t speaking through me, I just go out and live my life. You have to live life to write about it! So I worked many editing jobs, enjoyed the world and what it had to offer and then decided to write screenplays. Right around script #4 I got serious about “Until September” again and made a concerted effort to refine it, polish it and get it ready to be introduced to the world. The muses were singing to me again! So it took about 20 years, though I wasn’t obsessed with it the whole time. I had other stories to tell and I had to be ready, in the right place and space, have learned and lived enough to be ready to pull the trigger. If I had done it earlier, I wouldn’t have been primed and it wouldn’t have come out as well as (I think) it did.

What makes your story unique?

I think its 1966 setting, while not being about Stonewall (or the tempest that was brewing that led to Stonewall) and also not being directly about homophobia, makes it stand out. I didn’t want it to be about homophobia because so many stories (for good reason, of course) focus on that and it seemed too obvious. It does play a small part in “Until September,” but it’s not the driving force of the story. I think the setting on an unnamed island also gives it a sense of timelessness. The characters are cut off from the rest of the world for the summer, so they live in a bubble, separate from the political turmoil that is starting to engulf the rest of the nation, which leads to their personal dramas reaching a fever pitch they might not have otherwise. And unlike most love stories, this one is more grounded. Just the fact that it’s not a fantasy I think helps it stand out.

Who would enjoy reading your book? 

I think anyone who enjoys “Call Me By Your Name,” “Atonement” or “Brokeback Mountain” would enjoy “Until September.” Really, anyone who enjoys a good love story. Though I try to make clear to people that “love story” and “romance” are not necessarily synonymous. Romances are generally formulaic fantasies with stereotypical characters where you know the end before you open the cover of the book. (I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that; it’s just different. We all want safe stories sometimes, of course!) A love story has actual stakes, and thus suspense, with three-dimensional characters and unpredictability. I’ve had a fair number of people compare “Until September” (or me, I guess) to F. Scott Fitzgerald, which blows my mind and is not something I ever would have expected anyone to say. So perhaps fans of Fitzgerald would enjoy it as well, though it is not the same time period he wrote in!

What’s something you hope readers would take away from it?

I hope readers take away a sense of nostalgia when they’re done reading “Until September.” A sense of nostalgia for their youth and their first love. And I hope they think about regret, as we all have regrets, and the roads not taken and an understanding that the roads not taken are not necessarily better, though they hold the promise of hope. We make the best choices we can and in the end we have to live with them. And I hope the universality of that helps readers come to terms with their own choices and frees them from any regrets they may have.

Do you have a favourite quote or scene in the book that you find yourself going back to?

I have so many favourite quotes/scenes. They all percolate in my head periodically, and because I wrote it and know it so well and spent so long refining it, there are turns of phrase and how I hear a character say them that I unconsciously adopted them. I think about the Founders’ Day dance a lot. And the prologue, which essentially downloaded itself into my head one night when I had just gotten to a nightclub. I had to run home to type it all down before I forgot it. I may have changed a handful of words since that night it was so complete when it came to me. I didn’t even go back to the club that night even though I had been there only like 20 minutes!

What is something you have learned on your author journey so far? 

I’ve learned that readers will always surprise you. The book starts with a 1¼-page first-person prologue and then goes into third person for 98% of the story. I’ve gotten fan letters (which is a huge, huge, massive surprise that blows my mind) and some of them tell me how they were on tenterhooks the whole time wondering who was narrating. I honestly thought that no one would remember the prologue narrator once they got into the story. But apparently it sets the scene with another underlying soupçon of suspense. Another reader told me it reads like a horror story because there’s such a sense of dread hanging over the whole proceedings. I thought that was the coolest compliment because it is intended to be suspenseful!

If you could give a shout out to someone(s) who has helped in your writer journey, please feel free to mention them below!

As I said above, I emailed it to myself in sections when I was writing the first draft, and at that time I also emailed it to my friend Gina Boldman, who gave me invaluable feedback. And Jody Chaffee printed it out in pieces for me so I could look at it in physical form when I was first writing it. And Katie Thomas has been with me on the whole journey, including working two cubicles from my reception desk at that computer software company when I first wrote “Until September.” The second we met, we knew we were Wonder Twins. She was even with me when I realized what the title was. She asked what the book was about and as I was explaining the concept, I said, “They realize they have only until September to salvage their summer love,” and I gasped and was like, “That’s the title!”

---

Book Excerpt from
Until September

Prologue

I was so young when it all began that the blame hardly feels like mine. But no matter how minor a part I played, mine was the most pivotal. In the end, it was a decision I made.

So though there are many stories I tell, this is the one I’ve never shared. I can’t bear to think about it, except in my most submerged recesses, releasing it in the deep deep dark of night, when it will not be evaded.

How many years would you have to go back to change your destiny? That question plagues me. Because if I can think in terms of destiny, I can afford myself a slight reprieve, a misguided waft of air in a stagnant, decaying well. If I can think in terms of destiny, I can believe that I did what I did because I had no option. It had been predetermined and I’d only acted out my role.

But destiny is the weak man’s conception. To believe in destiny is to take no responsibility for your choices.

And I won’t allow myself the luxury.

I learned a little from Trent that summer, but not enough to open the eyes of a self-involved, spoiled, jealous 17-year-old. Then, later, years later, I ran into Dana. We had drinks, both of us smoking too much, talking too much, drinking too much, wondering if the other was glossing things over. I saw a subtle loneliness in her eyes that I recognized only because it was in mine, too. She knew. And she knew that I knew. It’s scary, that loneliness, because you want so much to have someone alleviate it, yet the only people who can are those who know it, too. And when you find one of those people you’re terrified that that person can see through your carefully wrought facade, and you realize you’re naked in front of a virtual stranger, so you just run.

Run.

I learned most of it from Kyle. The details. The things I couldn’t have known. Those things pursue me. Those and the things Dana told me happened after. After I passed out of the picture. I was able to spend some uncomfortable but pleasant time with her until she told me. That was when I had to flee. I had to escape. That was when the running became all.

I’m still running.

Just as Kyle is still chasing. 

Neither of us will succeed—me in escaping or Kyle in capturing. 

We know this. 

We don’t stop.

Someone once told me that tears water the soul. I do not believe this. If it were true, my soul would be fertile and verdant. But it is stunted and gnarled and withered and cracked.

Which is something I could live with.

If Kyle’s had been spared.

Kyle would say this is Jack’s story. But, just as this is the only story I can never share, this is the only one Kyle will ever be able to tell.

So I think of this as Kyle’s story.

****

They went to the balcony with champagne, the setting sun turning a majestic cloud formation and the glinting sea a brilliant shade of orange sherbet. Dusk had pared down its edges so that the world was tender. From inside the club, Sadie Burroughs turned sorrowful with Autumn Leaves.

Jack proffered the flower.

Kyle accepted it, the thornless rose, mindlessly, hardly noticing. The only thought he could form was, He’s stunning, and it came out a sigh. He had never really meant it of anyone before.

Jack tapped the smooth oak rail as a swan passed between them and the shore. 

“Why are you knocking wood?” 

“Sometimes I guess I’m just afraid of being too happy.” His hair blew around his face like they were in the convertible. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Kyle Ryan Quinn.” 

“Really?” He was thrilled. 

“I’m sorry I flipped out on you. I was afraid you’d still be mad.” 

“I was afraid you’d be furious.” He had an I’m-so-high-I-can’t-stop-smiling look. He pulled the stone out of his pocket. “I held this the whole time.” 

Jack grinned then said, “I didn’t call because I thought you might need some space.” 

“Me, too.” 

“But I don’t want to mess this summer up.” 

“Me neither.” 

“Will you teach me to drive?” 

“Of course!”

“I want to spend every day together. Even if I have to spend them with your friends. This is my classic summer.” 

“There are going to be so many more.” 

“Look at you. Always so romantic.” A compliment. Points of light caught in his magnificent eyes so that they flashed, as if lit from within, and for an instant they appeared dimensionless, like a cat’s, so that Kyle could see into them, into him. 

And then they were simple jewels again, and Kyle could think. 

“I loved The Little Prince,” he breathed. 

“I knew you would.” 

“It bothered me.” 

Jack gave a compassionate smile. “It’s supposed to.”

The nearness of him drowned out everything, the orchestra, the people, the sea. Kyle was so in love he wanted to die of it just so he wouldn’t have to endure it any longer.

Jack’s hair shifted in the wind. “Look,” he said, pointing to the slowly darkening sky. 

It was the first star burning through the kaleidoscopic rush of sunset. Kyle closed his eyes and made a wish like he was in a pop song. And then something tickled his nose. He opened his eyes to find gold glitter floating around them like radiant dust in the sun. Jack had his mouth open in surprise. They both looked up to see two young boys leaning out a second-story window, dropping fistfuls of gold into the wind. They heard a shout from above, and the boys scurried inside, apparently caught. 

Jack held out his hands, palms up, like it was raining, and laughed aloud.

Through the doors Sadie Burroughs and Her Orchestra segued into I’ve Got a Crush on You. It made Kyle realize how badly he wanted to dance with Jack.

“I guess this time we’re really golden,” he said, the glitter fading around them.

Specks of gold were in Jack’s hair, on his nose, on his glasses. “What’d you wish for?”

“How did you know I made a wish?”

“Because I did too.”

“Well, I can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”

“I knew you’d say that.”

“Yeah?”

“I see who you are. I just worry that you don’t.” 

Jack looked at him so guilelessly, Kyle didn’t feel vulnerable. There was no point if Jack already knew everything. All it could do was empower him. “I guess no one like you has ever been around to bring it out,” he said.

Jack grasped one of Kyle’s forearms. “Well, now you’re free.” 

If Jack had been a girl, Kyle could have kissed him. Just to show where things stood. 

But things were not so simple. And Kyle was afraid Jack could see his anguish.

“I should find my parents,” Jack said. The undersides of the big, puffy clouds were lit deeply pink by the departing sun. 

“I don’t want you to go.” 

“I don’t either. But I have to.” He raised his glass. “But first, a toast.” 

Kyle raised his own glass. “A toast.” 

“To tomorrow.” 

They clinked and drank. 

“Tomorrow,” Kyle said. 

“And the day after that.” 

Kyle’s smile deepened. “And the day after that.” 

Jack backed toward the open French doors, smiling. “We’ve got every day until September.”

And he turned and was gone.

---

Interested?

Thank you for hanging out with us today. Find Until September on Goodreads and Amazon. Connect with Harker on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Amazon, Goodreads and BookBub.

---

If you are an indie author and would like to do a book excerpt, check out my work with me page for details. Check out other book excerpts here.