I finished the first draft to my new story tonight. Of course there will be tweaking and tightening, adding and subtracting. I wrote it in long hand in my notebook, as opposed to using the computer. It just seemed to flow better. Took me three days, which is two days longer than usual. In between writing, I was thinking about each scene, which characters would make their appearance, how they would interact with my protagonist.
I know I'm going to play with the dialogue, which most readers enjoy best. This story is actually another episode following the initial introduction of this character in the last story of my new book, Plowed In--More Switchblade Stories. Just because I'm marketing this doesn't mean I take a hiatus from writing.
Tonight I was at a Meet Up Group, Shut Up & Write with a dozen others. I met a young woman and we exchanged business cards. I tried to impart helpful info, showed her my books and explained some of the ins and outs of self publishing.
Tomorrow I continue planning events and strategy for marketing. I think I'm becoming a better reader, but I have to look at the audience more. Looking forward to a book launch next month. Publishing a book is like no other experience.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Something Bad Done Well
The Plant Terrorists blew up Lois's cherry tomatoes. They strike in the dead of night and no one knows how to stop them. Their targets are hedges, plants, flowers, trees, bushes, vines, anything growing from the soil.
A suspicion the Concrete Cabal is responsible. This is a rumored secret group of extremists who worship concrete, pushing for a world order centering on unbroken miles of pavement.
These are bad people doing bad things very well. They are responsible for much of the way cities look today. They hate cucumbers with a passion, morning dew makes them vomit, leaves turning color causes them to cover their eyes, grey being their hue of choice. It is postulated this cabal has directly caused the premature death of thousands of Portabello mushrooms.
Politicians linked to this group will no doubt present a bill outlawing greenhouses and hiking trails.
Damn. Another explosion. Mrs. Haliday's roses are history.
A suspicion the Concrete Cabal is responsible. This is a rumored secret group of extremists who worship concrete, pushing for a world order centering on unbroken miles of pavement.
These are bad people doing bad things very well. They are responsible for much of the way cities look today. They hate cucumbers with a passion, morning dew makes them vomit, leaves turning color causes them to cover their eyes, grey being their hue of choice. It is postulated this cabal has directly caused the premature death of thousands of Portabello mushrooms.
Politicians linked to this group will no doubt present a bill outlawing greenhouses and hiking trails.
Damn. Another explosion. Mrs. Haliday's roses are history.
Easier Said Than Done
Ever try taking the bull by the horns? First you have to get it drunk or the beast won't cooperate. Then you have to determine what position is best, find a private spot and go at it. Fornicating with a bull is frowned upon by that same society that created the above saying. Hypocrites.
You'll still have to deal with post coital promises. Do you really want to be exclusive with this bull? If not, you need to be honest and risk getting gored or trampled, simultaneous orgasm be damned.
Don't cry over spilled milk is another proverb easier said than done, especially if it's expensive soy milk. Sour milk smells and your family will hate you if you don't stop sobbing and clean it up. Plus, they have to drink their coffee black and eat their cereal dry.
One door shuts and another opens. Well, what if you need a rest from opening and shutting doors? Why pay attention to doors anyway? So much of what happens that is worth watching can be seen through windows.
Expressing wisdom in these blogs is easier said than done. Thankfully, this one's done.
You'll still have to deal with post coital promises. Do you really want to be exclusive with this bull? If not, you need to be honest and risk getting gored or trampled, simultaneous orgasm be damned.
Don't cry over spilled milk is another proverb easier said than done, especially if it's expensive soy milk. Sour milk smells and your family will hate you if you don't stop sobbing and clean it up. Plus, they have to drink their coffee black and eat their cereal dry.
One door shuts and another opens. Well, what if you need a rest from opening and shutting doors? Why pay attention to doors anyway? So much of what happens that is worth watching can be seen through windows.
Expressing wisdom in these blogs is easier said than done. Thankfully, this one's done.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Law Books
I saw a pile of law books in the dumpster. One had the word 'torts' in the title. I felt sadness. Obviously this was someone who had hopes of being an attorney, fighting for the underclass, righting wrongs, settling injustices. For whatever reason, poor grades, no tuition money, no openings, this person had abandoned his dream of being a barrister.
As I turned away I heard a cough from behind the dumpster. I decided to investigate and shockingly discovered a young man in a wrinkled suit and scuffed shoes sitting against the dumpster, head in hands. I made the assumption those were his books.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" I asked.
"Sue someone. Fall down, get hurt and sue. Swallow a hair in your salad at a fast food place. Slander your boss or former wife. Walk away from your mortgage. Break some stinking law. I need WORK!"
He broke into sobs.
"I'm thinking of making out a will," I offered.
He leaped off the ground,grabbed me by the shirt.
"God bless you. That's $165 covering everything including postage. I take check, money order and cash. I prefer cash. Do you have an office I can use? Temporarily."
I said no, but perhaps in the future when I've made a final decision...
He exploded. "TEASE! Another close but no cigar. No one wants lawyers anymore. The Internet killed us. Free advice, free information, free forms. I still owe $80000 for my schooling. Lawyers used to get laid. Now we beg for scraps."
He slumped back into a sitting position. I tip toed away, listening to his grumbling. Those law books looked in good shape. At least if I fell I knew who to contact. If he still had a cell.
As I turned away I heard a cough from behind the dumpster. I decided to investigate and shockingly discovered a young man in a wrinkled suit and scuffed shoes sitting against the dumpster, head in hands. I made the assumption those were his books.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" I asked.
"Sue someone. Fall down, get hurt and sue. Swallow a hair in your salad at a fast food place. Slander your boss or former wife. Walk away from your mortgage. Break some stinking law. I need WORK!"
He broke into sobs.
"I'm thinking of making out a will," I offered.
He leaped off the ground,grabbed me by the shirt.
"God bless you. That's $165 covering everything including postage. I take check, money order and cash. I prefer cash. Do you have an office I can use? Temporarily."
I said no, but perhaps in the future when I've made a final decision...
He exploded. "TEASE! Another close but no cigar. No one wants lawyers anymore. The Internet killed us. Free advice, free information, free forms. I still owe $80000 for my schooling. Lawyers used to get laid. Now we beg for scraps."
He slumped back into a sitting position. I tip toed away, listening to his grumbling. Those law books looked in good shape. At least if I fell I knew who to contact. If he still had a cell.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Promoting the Book
My new collection of short stories, Plowed In-More Switchblade Stories, has just been released on Amazon & B&N, and now its time for me to make appearances and promote. It can be interesting, meeting and discussing one's writing with friends and strangers. It can also get sticky.
One has to be careful not to be too aggressive. You can lose friends pretty quick. I simply hold up the book, mention the title and the price($10) direct from me, a bit more online, and let them peruse. I don't want anyone to feel obligated, nor do I want my feelings to be hurt if those I expected to buy, don't.
People have their reasons. Money is certainly one of them. Others have said they don't buy books anymore. Maybe jealousy creeps into it. Writers struggling with their project don't want to be reminded of that by seeing others hawking a finished book.
You can't sell it in little bookstores because they want a percentage and that means a loss on each sale for me. Big stores don't stock it. Open mikes are attended by others looking to perform, not buy. Libraries host authors and attendance is spotty. Buying a table at an outdoor fair is costly.
Yes, it tough sledding marketing one's book, but that is part of the commitment. I feel these 25 stories are varied enough to keep one's interest. The humor is edgy, but there are serious undertones. I hope my readers will give it a try and if you like it, spread the word.
One has to be careful not to be too aggressive. You can lose friends pretty quick. I simply hold up the book, mention the title and the price($10) direct from me, a bit more online, and let them peruse. I don't want anyone to feel obligated, nor do I want my feelings to be hurt if those I expected to buy, don't.
People have their reasons. Money is certainly one of them. Others have said they don't buy books anymore. Maybe jealousy creeps into it. Writers struggling with their project don't want to be reminded of that by seeing others hawking a finished book.
You can't sell it in little bookstores because they want a percentage and that means a loss on each sale for me. Big stores don't stock it. Open mikes are attended by others looking to perform, not buy. Libraries host authors and attendance is spotty. Buying a table at an outdoor fair is costly.
Yes, it tough sledding marketing one's book, but that is part of the commitment. I feel these 25 stories are varied enough to keep one's interest. The humor is edgy, but there are serious undertones. I hope my readers will give it a try and if you like it, spread the word.
Seduced and Abandoned
I fell deeply in love with VHS. Collected hundreds of videos for when I retired. I wouldn't have to leave the house, just sit back in my recliner, unshaven and unwashed, watching film after film.
I stored them in closets, on shelves, in the hamper. I stared at their striking covers and bold titles, cataloged them by director and actor. As long as I had my VHS collection I didn't have to interact with others.
You know what happened next. Three ugly letters--DVD. Followed closely by DVD players.
My lonely VCR remains under my cable box, unused. I am retired six years and have not watched a single video. All those unseen Steve Guttenberg performances.
My tapes haven't actually abandoned me. They exist peripherally in my life. Sometimes I will take some out and caress their box. I almost wish they were gone for good.
I feel so used.
I stored them in closets, on shelves, in the hamper. I stared at their striking covers and bold titles, cataloged them by director and actor. As long as I had my VHS collection I didn't have to interact with others.
You know what happened next. Three ugly letters--DVD. Followed closely by DVD players.
My lonely VCR remains under my cable box, unused. I am retired six years and have not watched a single video. All those unseen Steve Guttenberg performances.
My tapes haven't actually abandoned me. They exist peripherally in my life. Sometimes I will take some out and caress their box. I almost wish they were gone for good.
I feel so used.
The Ivy League Has the Bomb
Think about it. Millions of bucks in alumni contributions. Some of the finest minds anywhere doing research on campus. Elitists, disgusted with the rest of us. They turn up their noses at our tastes, lifestyles, vocabulary, mismatched clothing, tiny reading lists, our slacker kids, our bunions.
William F. Buckley sneered his way to the top. Who do you think he was sneering at? He chewed on his pen like germs wouldn't dare present themselves in his bubble world. An intellectual dictator with Ivy League-rs as his minions.
Besides the bomb, they probably possess chemical and biological warfare elements.
Targets? Rutgers, Montclair State, all Florida Universities, Wendy's and Burger King, plaid manufacturing, Jerry Lewis.
They'd force us to learn Latin, read Henry James, use long sentences with many dependent clauses, repeat words like nefarious and coagulate.
Demand we have joyless sex.
It's coming, my friends, it is coming.
William F. Buckley sneered his way to the top. Who do you think he was sneering at? He chewed on his pen like germs wouldn't dare present themselves in his bubble world. An intellectual dictator with Ivy League-rs as his minions.
Besides the bomb, they probably possess chemical and biological warfare elements.
Targets? Rutgers, Montclair State, all Florida Universities, Wendy's and Burger King, plaid manufacturing, Jerry Lewis.
They'd force us to learn Latin, read Henry James, use long sentences with many dependent clauses, repeat words like nefarious and coagulate.
Demand we have joyless sex.
It's coming, my friends, it is coming.
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