CW | CW Hawes - Part 22

On the Shortness of Life

A little over a week ago, I learned of the death of a fellow indie author. I did not know Laila Doncaster, except in passing. We exchanged a few words now and then on Twitter, occasionally retweeted each other’s tweets, and that was that.

Her first book of a projected series was published on May 1st. Her bio on Amazon speaks of looking forward to an early retirement. And now she’s dead.

I am saddened. Very much so. A person looking forward to the future, an exciting future, and now there is no future. She’s gone.

Every now and again someone will chasten me for my attitude towards my writing. The sense of intense urgency I have to put pen to paper.

I am driven to produce as much as I can, as fast as I can, and get as many copies of my books into as many hands as I can.

I’m told I shouldn’t feel so driven. I’m told I shouldn’t be looking over my shoulder for the Grim Reaper, while my pen is scratching out page after page of words.

All I can say in response to these well-meaning folk is to quote Seneca: “The whole future lies in uncertainty: live immediately.”

Or to paraphrase: I might die tonight — I need to write today. After all, only I can write my books; and I have many score begging to be written down.

Seneca’s essay, On the Shortness of Life, needs to be required reading. It is the antidote to the carelessness with which most of us approach life and live life — which is the most non-renewable of resources.

I’m 67 years old, and I’m somewhat ashamed to admit I’ve wasted most of the time given to me in this thing we call life.

Ever since I can remember, I’ve wanted to be a writer. However, it wasn’t until I was 37 that I actually, in all seriousness, began to act on my desire instead of just dabble. And it was another 11 years before I began to see the fruit of that action.

According to the actuarial tables, I have another 10 years to live. That’s not a lot of time. And anything can happen between now and then to shorten those 10 years.

Seneca wrote:

It is not that we have a short time to live, but that we waste a lot of it. Life is long enough, and a sufficiently generous amount has been given to us for the highest achievements if it were all well invested. But when it is wasted in heedless luxury and spent on no good activity, we are forced at last by death’s final constraint to realize that it has passed away before we knew it was passing. So it is: we are not given a short life but we make it short, and we are not ill-supplied but wasteful of it… Life is long if you know how to use it.

There’s some comfort in that advice, yet how many of us know how to use our time and not waste it? I confess I’m still struggling with that one. But here, too, Seneca has some advice for us:

No activity can be successfully pursued by an individual who is preoccupied … since the mind when distracted absorbs nothing deeply, but rejects everything which is, so to speak, crammed into it. Living is the least important activity of the preoccupied man; yet there is nothing which is harder to learn… Learning how to live takes a whole life, and, which may surprise you more, it takes a whole life to learn how to die.

In other words, it is unproductive busyness, unproductive worry and anxiety, unproductive lack of focus, unproductive preoccupation with things that don’t matter that rob us of the one thing that does matter — irreplaceable time.

It is the life lived deliberately that is the fruitful life. It is the focused life that is the productive life. As Rainer Maria Rilke advised the young poet: once you’ve decided you must write, then you must structure your life so that nothing gets in the way of writing. Harlan Ellison put it more cryptically: “Writers write.”

I might beat the actuarial odds. My mom was 80 when she died. My dad is 87. His mother died in her 90s, although the last few years she was debilitated by a stroke, and his father died a month shy of his 103 birthday. But I can’t bank on it. Which means I have to write today.

As Seneca noted:

…the man who … organizes every day as though it were his last, neither longs for nor fears the next day… Nothing can be taken from this life, and you can only add to it as if giving to a man, who is already full and satisfied, food which he does not want but can hold.

Living deliberately is the key. And when we do, life — no matter how long or short — is time enough to accomplish great things.

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy and productive living!

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Fiction Is People

Fiction is all about people. At least good fiction is. That’s why good fiction stays with us. Why it’s memorable.

Theodore Sturgeon once said, “Good fiction is people. And people are people you know.” Which is probably the point of the old writing adage: write what you know.

It’s all fine and dandy for the writer to show off his or her knowledge about cars, or cooking, or stamp collecting, or orchids — but if those things don’t touch people, so what?

Of late, I’ve been watching Colombo. The lieutenant is a wonderfully drawn character, and certainly went a long way to contribute to the show’s popularity. What I find of even more interest, is that Colombo knows people. He knows what makes them tick. What is likely and unlikely behavior. He’s a shrink masquerading as a police officer in a rumpled raincoat.

Columbo is all about people: their greed, their habits. And how it is that in the end, who they are is what ultimately trips up their attempts to get away with murder.

Good fiction is about people, because without people there is no story. How can a story exist without people? Sure, we can substitute animals for people, but that’s just a camouflage. The story is still about people, and still tells us something about the human condition. It is as Ray Bradbury noted: create your characters (the people), let them do their thing — and there is the story.

There are writers who get hung up on plot. They have to detail each little action in the story. Too often, what gets lost along the way are the people in the story. And the reader knows it. The characters are flat, lifeless paper dolls.

Now some readers don’t care. They devour the story and move on to the next one. Those readers are kind of like junkies just looking for reading fix.

However, I think most readers want a quality reading experience. They want to read about people like themselves, or about people they would like to become, doing wonderful and amazing things.

Tarzan is memorable because he personifies the best in us and is ultimately someone who we’d like to be.

Rex Stout gave us the sedentary eccentric genius, Nero Wolfe, and the wisecracking man of action, Archie Goodwin. I find myself drawn to both of them, but particularly to Wolfe. Why? Because I would like to be the master of that brownstone. Good food, good books, the big globe, beautiful orchids. I’d just sub tea for the beer.

I can’t recall any story that I remember solely because of the plot. I do, though, remember many because of the characters. Bilbo Baggins. Hercule Poirot. Sherlock Holmes. Carnacki. Rona Dean (from RH Hale’s Church Mouse). Tony Price and Chris Allard (from Richard Schwindt’s two mystery series). Carol (from Steve Bargdill’s Banana Sandwich). The Zombie from Ben Willoughby’s The Undude. Tatsuya (from Crispian Thurlborn’s 01134). And more. So many more.

Fiction is all about people. Fiction is us.

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

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Reading Indie

I am surprised by the number of authors on Twitter who say they don’t have time to read, or who don’t read books by indie authors.

Don’t Have Time To Read

This one just boggles my mind. How can a writer say he or she doesn’t have time to read?

That’s like a painter saying he doesn’t have time to look at art.

Or a woodworker saying he doesn’t have time to look at other examples of woodworking.

Stephen King has noted that if one wants to be a writer, he needs to do two things:

1. 1. 1. Read a lot
    2. Write a lot

And Mr. King is not alone in his sentiment. Every writer who makes a living from writing says the same thing.

Reading the writing of other writers not only provides enjoyment for the reader — but it is a seminar on how others approach the art and craft of storytelling.

Writers need to be readers.

Don’t Read Indie

This too boggles my mind. How can an indie author not read the words of his or her fellows?

That’s like an eye doctor never talking with other eye doctors. How is that going to work? I would not want to go to that doctor.

It saddens me to see indie authors not list an indie book when they play those Twitter games of list your current favorite reads. Or an indie author when they’re tagged to list current favorite authors.

I read an average of four books a month, along with a bushel basket of short stories and novelettes. I also sneak in some nonfiction. And most of my reading is of indie authors.

Mind you, I don’t read bestsellers. I find bestsellers, for the most part, not the best books. I scour the bottom of the barrel and maybe the middle of the barrel. That is where I find the real talent. The writers who truly know how to tell a good story. And I find it a shame that those writers are the ones who deserve to be bestsellers and are not.

Indie April is over. But that doesn’t mean the adventure has to stop. Those indie authors are still there waiting to be discovered. Go out and discover them. Find those books that are not in the top 300,000 on Amazon’s paid list. That’s where you’ll find the good stuff.

Writers, if you are serious about your craft, read lots and write lots.

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

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Literary Fiction

Were Ernest Hemingway alive today, would he make it as an independent author/publisher? I don’t think so.

Why do I write that? Because literary fiction is a tough sell to the indie reader. Not that a reader of indie books won’t read literary fiction, because some do. I for one.

However, Lit Fic is not the main diet of the indie reader. Genre fiction is. And genre fiction written in serials.

When we look at Literary Fiction in comparison to genre fiction, we see the problem immediately: most Lit Fic is standalone, and how the heck do you categorize it to get a reader’s eyes on it?

With genre fiction, it’s easy. There are all manner of tags one can use. For mysteries there are: crime fiction, serial killer, detective fiction, police procedural, cozy, amateur sleuth, along with the general mystery and murder mystery.

But what category does a book like The Remains of the Day fall into? Or The Old Man and the Sea?

Amazon does put The Old Man and the Sea into the Sea Stories category, but is it really a sea story? It certainly isn’t what I think of when I think of the sea story category. I think of Patrick O’Brian, and the Horatio Hornblower books. I might think of Moby Dick, or a book by Joseph Conrad. But Moby Dick isn’t really about the sea or whales, and while many Conrad stories involve the sea, they aren’t actually sea stories either.

The Remains of the Day is in an even more difficult place. Classic British Fiction. Now that tells me a lot. And therein lies the problem with indies selling Lit Fic — what the heck do you call it?

Since the indie reader basically demands genres and serial fiction, I think therein lies the answer. And the indie writer of Literary Fiction has no better a model than Anthony Trollope.

Trollope invented the novel series with his Barchester Chronicles: six novels that take place in and around the cathedral town of Barchester.

The six novels loosely follow each other. Although they can be read as standalone books. What they share is a locale and a set of characters that show up in each of the books, but with each novel having a different main character.

Because Trollope touches on so many different aspects of mid-nineteenth century British society, we can fit these books into many categories.

The books are historical fiction and religious fiction. They could possibly be called Christian fiction, although they aren’t evangelical in nature. They are about small town life, church politics and specifically Anglican Church politics, middle-class life, and married life. There is a fair amount of romance, always a campaign for Parliament, so we could call them mildly political novels. They could also be called comedies of manners. And they are filled with humor.

Trollope, as if he had foreseen Twitter, made it easy of us to tweet his books. And therein lies the key to an indie author’s success in writing Literary Fiction: write a series of standalone novels that involve the same locale and a general set of characters.

The old format for the TV series works well here: a main trio of characters, a supporting cast of around nine, and a uniform locale; each week one character is the focal point of the episode. Gunsmoke ran for years on such a formula, as did every other series when I was growing up.

And Anthony Trollope gave us the formula over a century ago.

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading (and writing)!

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#IndieApril

April on Twitter is #IndieApril month. All month long we celebrate independent authors/publishers — indies. It is a self-publishing extravaganza.

I regularly read self-published books. In fact, the majority of my reading is of self-published authors. In this day and age democracy reigns in the publishing world. The artificial gatekeepers of editors and agents and publishing house rules are dinosaurs on the evolutionary path to extinction.

Two thousand and many more years ago there were no agents, no editors, no publishers. If Sophocles wanted to write a play, he wrote one. The audience was the only arbiter. If Seneca, wanted to write a book on moral philosophy, he wrote one. Only the audience mattered.

When the printing press was invented, self-publishing — which was the only kind of publishing there was — could reach much larger audiences with the new printed books than it ever could with the old handwritten manuscripts of previous generations. A win for publishing democracy.

Today, with ebooks, there are no limits. Not selling enough on Amazon? BookFunnel can create a code for your ebook that allows you to give it away or sell it. The reader then redeems the code on the BookFunnel site and gets the book.

You can literally stand on a street corner and give away or sell your ebook to any number of takers. All you do is give them a card with your book code on it.

You’re on the bus or an airplane. The person next to you is interested in your book — you can make a sale right then and there.

I haven’t used BookFunnel’s new program yet (it’s not offered on my current plan), but I’ve been thinking of ways I could use it. Because it sure beats the heck out of hauling around cartons of paperbacks.

Democracy has returned to writers and readers in a way, Aeschylus, Plato, Seneca, Plotinus, and other ancients never dreamed of. And I, for one, love it.

Each #IndieApril I try to read several brand new authors. So far this month I’ve read two new to me authors: Caleb Pirtle III and Lex Allen.

Lonely Night To Die by Caleb Pirtle III is a collection of three noir thrillers. I prefer to see them as three episodes in the life of the Quiet Assassin, Roland Sand. Lonely Night To Die is a thrilling, suspenseful read by international bestselling and award winning author Caleb Pirtle III. Do add it to your reading list.

Lovably Dead is a collection of tales of terror by Lex Allen. Awesomely scary reads by a superb writer. If you love being scared to death, get Lovably Dead. Just make sure your life insurance is paid up.

I also like to revisit favorite authors during #IndieApril. So far I’ve revisited Ray Zacek and Andy Graham.

Cosecha by Ray Zacek is a novella of terror you won’t soon forget. A monster is prowling the US-Mexico border. A monster that only catches — never releases. If Zacek writes it, you need to buy it.

Andy Graham is a writer who is quite literary in his style. However, that doesn’t mean he won’t scare the bejesus out of you. Because he will. I’m currently reading A Crow’s Game. And, yes, all the lights are on. And I do mean all.

Indie writers are turning out fabulous books and stories. There are so many talented people out there that the gatekeepers would have denied an audience. And that ain’t right.

April isn’t over. I urge you to buy, read, and review a self-published book. Let me know in the comments if you need suggestions.

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

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Investigators of the Paranormal

Fear is one of our oldest emotions — if not the oldest. And fear of the unknown is one of our greatest fears.

I don’t know what I don’t know, and that lack of knowing scares us. It is primal, that fear of the unknown.

Fear, playing on our fears, is the stock in trade of the writer of the macabre. Those spinners of stories that parade our fears before us and scare us to death — and we love it.

For all of our façade of sophistication, biologically speaking we are no different than our ancestors from 300,000 years ago. We may no longer be afraid of thunder and lightning, and we may have outgrown our fear of what’s under our beds — we are, however, still controlled by our fears.

Just look at the nightly news. Listen to David Muir’s tone of voice. He’s playing into our fears. And how often do we say, “I’m afraid…” — no matter the context?

Is it any wonder that the tale of terror, the horror story, has never lost its appeal with readers?

Today, interest in the paranormal — our modern term for what used to be called the supernatural and the occult — is hot. Genre fiction has pretty much a paranormal version of every genre. Some of it’s silly, and some of it is pretty doggone scary.

Paranormal fiction has made quite a few of its writers a boatload of money. And while much of the paranormal genre fiction is formulaic trope-filled tripe, some of it is quite good.

When I conceived of my Pierce Mostyn Paranormal Investigations series, I wanted something that moved in the world of the Cthulhu Mythos and also appealed to viewers of The X-Files.

From comments I’ve received and from the reviews of the books, I believe I’ve succeeded.

What’s more, since his introduction, Pierce Mostyn has been my top selling series. Therefore, it’s only natural to revisit the paranormal as I contemplate starting a new series.

However, I wanted something a bit different from the Cosmic Horror, Cthulhu Mythos, focus of Mostyn. And since my first love as a reader is detective fiction (ever since discovering Nero Wolfe in the early 80s), what would be more natural than to blend detective fiction with the paranormal?

Thank goodness I don’t have to reinvent the wheel. The occult detective has a long and time-honored lineage and is alive and well today.

Therefore, my new series, which will most likely debut next year, will be a brother and sister team of occult detectives, or, in contemporary parlance, paranormal investigators.

Taking a page from the exploits of Flaxman Low, Thomas Carnacki, and Jules de Grandin, my investigators will explore those things that go bump in the night and scare the bejeebers out of people.

Haunted houses, demons, assorted monsters, arcane and occult magic. Twisted tales about two normal (well, mostly normal) young adults battling the ageless fears that underlie the veneer of our contemporary scientific sophistication.

As all good occult detectives have done, my hero and heroine will allay our fears of the unknown. Of course, such fears can never truly be put to rest. Can they?

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

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The Piranha Pandemic

Matthew Cormack is one in a legion of virtually unknown writers who are producing excellent fiction. Much of it better than what the big corporate publishers are giving the public to read.

These independent author/publishers, indies for short, publish some doggone good stuff. Fiction that truly deserves a much wider audience. Fiction that is frequently far better than the best selling drivel being forced upon readers’s eyeballs.

Last week I introduced you to one such writer: Matthew Cormack. This week, I’d like to tell you a bit about two of his three books. Only two, because I haven’t read the third one yet.

The Piranha Pandemic Universe

Mr. Cormack has created a fictional universe that is incredibly believable. Starting with a mysterious and fast-acting virus that eventually wipes out most of humanity, Cormack then extrapolates what the world would be like for those who survived the pandemic — and, more importantly, how they would deal with being a survivor.

This form of the post-apocalyptic sub-genre is called a cozy catastrophe.

The term was coined by Brian Aldiss as a pejorative to describe the plot of Wyndham’s The Day of the Triffids.

In spite of Aldiss, the point of the cozy catastrophe is not a celebration of bourgeois values — it’s a celebration of hope in the indomitable human spirit.

Not dystopian in tone, the cozy catastrophe is utopian. Given the chance, we can indeed fix the mess we ourselves made of society and culture. At last, at long last, a broken world gets to be fixed.

The “fix”, of course, depends on the worldview of the writer of the story.

In my own cozy catastrophe, The Rocheport Saga, the protagonist, Bill Arthur, pursues his anarcho-capitalist libertarian dream. Very utopian indeed!

On the other hand, Matthew Cormack takes a much more realistic view of things: nothing will change, because people are people.

Don’t Dream It’s Over

The first novel set in the Piranha Pandemic universe is Don’t Dream It’s Over. It’s the story of Peter, who is not the most savory of protagonists. He’s pretty much like everyone we know: he has good points and bad points and sometimes the bad points do outnumber the good points. Although, through the course of the story, we see the dross slowly burned away to reveal a pretty doggone good guy. A good guy who’d been corrupted by modern society.

Peter decides to leave London, leave England. At first, his only goal is to reach the Mediterranean. However, as he meets other survivors along the way, and sees how they are coping or not coping with the aftermath of the plague, his own goal begins to change. And by the end of the book, Peter truly is the hero of the story.

Cormack is a cracker jack writer. He makes the epistolary novel form come alive. And he does this by giving us real people in very lifelike situations. That is Cormack’s gift: an eye for people. He’s a canny observer of life and puts those observations into his books.

Don’t Dream It’s Over is a long book: over 250,000 words. Long books aren’t my cup of tea. Yet once I started Don’t Dream, I was hooked. The story was compelling and the book didn’t lag as so many long novels do.

Perhaps what I enjoyed most about Don’t Dream was the realism. No dystopia or utopia here. Although there are dystopian and utopian groups encountered by Peter on his journey to find himself. Which is just another way of saying that we find here real people in real situations.

As one reviewer wrote: “…boy does this book stay with you long after you have finally put it down.” And it does.

Ganbaru

Ganbaru is the second book set in the Piranha Pandemic universe. The story revolves around a completely different set of characters then we encountered in Don’t Dream.

The setting is England. Rural England. And here we have utopia meets dystopia. A small group of survivors intent on making the world a better place, collide with a much larger group led by a real bad egg named Baz. The story line revolves around how the small group can become free from the large group, after Baz’s group takes them over.

I don’t want to spoil the story. You’ll have to read it on your own — and I definitely encourage you to do so.

Once again, Cormack gives us real people in realistic settings which results in a very believable story. A story so believable you tend to forget you’re reading a novel.

Ganbaru is a cozy catastrophe that is largely a thriller laced with a heaping helping of suspense. In my opinion, Cormack has taken the cozy catastrophe and made it a genre for today, yet keeping true to the sub-genre’s roots.

Here’s my review from Amazon:

Matthew Cormack’s Piranha Pandemic Universe is a scary place. The survivors are fighting nature, dwindling resources, and themselves.

Don’t Dream It’s Over is the first book set in this universe. The story is superbly told, for Mr Cormack is a superb storyteller.

Ganbaru gives us a look at a different part of the Piranha Pandemic Universe. A small group of survivors, who are principled persons, want to start rebuilding a better world, and have begun their project in an old abandoned priory.

As fate would have it, they meet a larger group that is pragmatically ruthless. The clash of civilizations, as it were, makes for exciting reading.

Ganbaru is a realistic post-apocalyptic tale. There are no zombies or aliens or monsters — unless we, ourselves, qualify as the monsters.

The story is told well and peopled with real-life characters in real-life situations who must make difficult decisions.

A fabulous story by a fabulous writer.

A fabulous writer indeed.

In these days of pandemic, I encourage you to read Matthew Cormack’s books. Because, at the end of the day, he’ll give you hope — and that’s exactly what we need.

Don’t Dream It’s Over is available from Amazon US and UK.

Ganbaru is available from Amazon US and UK.

The Piranha Pandemic: From Small Acorns… is available from Amazon US and UK.

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

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After the Apocalypse

With Coronavirus cases now over 750,000 worldwide, deaths over 36,000, and many areas of the US and the world under stay at home orders or lockdown, it might seem like we are experiencing the Apocalypse.

Of course, as I pointed out last week, the Coronavirus while dangerous is nowhere near as deadly as the Spanish Flu of 1918. That bug was killing a million people a week and did so for 25 straight weeks.

But no one today remembers the Spanish Flu Pandemic of 102 years ago.

For that matter, no one remembers the Hong Kong Flu Pandemic of 1968, which killed from one to four million people worldwide. Nor does anyone remember the Asian Flu Pandemic of 1957, which also originated in China, and went on to kill from one to four million people worldwide.

Will Coronavirus be as bad as those flu pandemics? At this stage, we don’t know. Sure experts make guesses — and I emphasize guesses — but even the experts don’t really know. No one will until it’s all over.

Pandemics are a staple in the post-apocalyptic writer’s arsenal of weapons available to wipe out humanity.

However, will a pandemic actually do so? That’s debatable. The Black Death, the most deadly disease to hit the Western world, wiped out 60% of Europe’s population — yet civilization marched on.

Personally, I don’t think a pandemic will be the end of the world as we know it. Not unless the bug that causes it is so foreign and fast acting that we won’t be able to respond in time. Something like the Andromeda Strain.

Be that as it may, pandemics have wiped out humanity in fiction many times over. There are those classics such as Earth Abides by George R Stewart, Empty World by John Christopher, I Am Legend by Richard Matheson, Terry Nation’s TV series and book Survivors, Mary Shelley’s The Last Man, and The Stand by Stephen King.

Indie authors have also jumped on the pandemic bandwagon. Authors such as AJ Newman, Ryan Casey, and AG Riddle.

But as you know, if you are a reader of this blog, I eschew bestsellers. IMO, they usually fail to live up to the hype.

Thus far, I’d have to say the most realistic post-apocalyptic pandemic novels I’ve read are those from the pen of Matthew Cormack.

If you’ve never heard of Matthew Cormack, that’s not surprising. He rather avoids the limelight. He labels himself a “Sunday writer”.

I ran across Mr Cormack in a Facebook writer’s group, where I was looking for some books to read. He offered his book Don’t Dream It’s Over. I read it and loved it. I mean I LOVED IT!!!

Matthew Cormack’s superb world building and very human characters and very realistic situations are what won the day for me.

Don’t Dream It’s Over is the initial novel set in the post-apocalyptic world of the Piranha Pandemic. Don’t Dream was followed by Ganbaru, and the just released The Piranha Pandemic: From Small Acorns… (which I’m very much looking forward to reading).

While the 3 novels are set in the same universe, each one is a standalone work.

Cormack writes about people. His books aren’t prepper manuals, or EMP exercises. They are books about people and how they act under extreme duress. His characters and the situations they get into are very real. These are people who could be your next door neighbor or your relatives.

If Coronavirus were to wipe out most of us who are breathing today, I think the world left behind would be very much like the one Matthew Cormack has created.

Next week, I’ll go into a bit more detail about the books themselves.

In the meantime, they’re only 99¢ each. Surely 3 bucks isn’t too much for some truly top-notch experiences in a world that might be. Experiences that will make you sit back and say, “Thank God I live in this world and not that one.”

Here are the links to the books:

Don’t Dream It’s Over

Ganbaru

The Piranha Pandemic: From Small Acorns…

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

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Panic

I’ve been watching the current panic, and in some quarters, hysteria, over the coronavirus pandemic. Being retired and a homebody, the quarantine measures don’t affect me much at all. I do what I’ve done now for years: write, read, manage my book marketing, watch a little TV, play a game. Oh, I mustn’t forget eating and sleeping — I do those, as well.

That we are in the midst of a pandemic is evident from the more or less worldwide spread of this new virus strain from China.

But, then, we must consider flu — the ordinary flu — a pandemic that occurs every year and we don’t get into much of a flap about it, do we now? And in any given year the flu affects a billion people worldwide, and kills anywhere from 290,000 to 650,000 people. In spite of the flu shot. Granted that isn’t a high mortality rate, but I wouldn’t want to be one of the death numbers.

Thus far (8 am, 23 March 2020), we have 351,083 reported cases worldwide, with 15,337 deaths. And lest we forget, 100,569 have recovered from the disease. The current mortality rate (subject to change, up or down) is 4.4%. That is much higher than the flu, but not as high as some other diseases.

The Ebola outbreak of 2014-16 had a 40% mortality rate. Now THAT is bad. Just imagine if that genie had gotten out of the bottle. What saved the world then, was the fact that the West African nations reported the outbreak right away. Just think if the Chinese had been as honest with the Coronavirus.

SARS is a relative of the Coronavirus, and originated in China. In the SARS pandemic, the mortality rate was 15%. Thank goodness SARS affected far fewer people than Coronavirus.

MERS, originating in Arabia, had a 34% mortality rate. And again, thank goodness, it affected only a small number of people. Otherwise we could have had a genuine catastrophe on our hands.

Of course the 800 pound disease gorilla of modern times was the Spanish Flu of 1918. That affected a third of the world’s population at the time, and killed anywhere from 50 million to 100 million people. At its height, it killed 1 million people a week for 25 weeks running. The Coronavirus stats aren’t anywhere near approaching those numbers. Thank goodness.

The Coronavirus originated in China and so far has affected the Chinese most severely, followed by the Italians, and the Iranians (who were also hard hit by the Spanish Flu). The vast majority of deaths are in those 3 countries. Do keep that in mind.

At present, the percentage of the world’s population that has contracted Coronavirus is .00004%. That is a pretty doggone tiny percentage. The death rate is similarly minuscule.

The Coronavirus is not good, no doubt about it. I don’t want to get it. However, we need to look at this rationally and not emotionally. We aren’t experiencing 40% death rates. Nor are we seeing a million people dying every week.

The actions of the world’s governments may, and I emphasize may, help contain the disease. There’s no reliable data, though, that quarantine is working. The numbers from China’s Communist government can’t be fully trusted because the history of Communist governments shows that they cook the numbers to make themselves look good. And even if quarantine Chinese-style worked, who in the West would want the government imposing those draconian measures? I doubt very many would.

To my mind, though, the greater risk from quarantine measures is shattered economies across the globe. That just might be a bigger issue than the disease itself — affecting far more lives for a far longer period of time.

Every day, around the world, 3,700 people are killed in road traffic accidents. In the 4 months while the Coronavirus has been with us, 447,700 people have died on the world’s roads. Somehow, fifteen thousand deaths doesn’t really compare to nearly half a million. And we do very little to stop the slaughter on our roads. No one has yet to propose we ban motor vehicles. Even the consideration would be considered ludicrous.

Perspective my friends. Reasoned and rational perspective. Coronavirus is bad. There is no cure. But there are many things that have been and are far worse.

Take the same precautions as you would with the flu. The means of spreading are essentially the same. And remember, this disease primarily kills old people. Like me. Don’t panic. Use common sense.

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

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The Indie Movement

In December 2012 I bought my first book by an indie author. The book was The Emperor’s Edge by Lindsay Buroker. I was favorably impressed. So much so, I went on and bought the series.

From there, I discovered other indie authors who were very good writers. And somewhere in the reading of those authors, my choice of authors shifted from traditionally published to a majority being indie published.

The independent author/publisher movement confirmed all the stories I’d heard for decades — that the big corporate publishers rejected thousands of good manuscripts every year.

Why do they do that? Because big corporations are by nature conservative. Sure they had to take risks to get to be big. That’s when they’re innovative — when they’re small. But once a corporation is huge, they become much more concerned about the bottom line. And innovation takes a back seat to profits.

Random House/Penguin and their behemoth German owners, aren’t going to take the risks that small press publishers might (although even those can be quite conservative). There is always risk with business. More fail than succeed. So the successful eventually begin to conserve their gains. That’s just how it is.

The sole entrepreneur, however, has only himself to be concerned about.

If I self-publish a book and it doesn’t make money, that only affects me.

If Macmillan (now a German company) publishes a flop, they are out the advance to the author, the salaries of the acquisition editors, the copy editors, the advertising people, the office rent, the cover artist salaries, the warehouse space, etc, etc. And the shareholders don’t get their dividends — which puts the CEO’s job at risk. And that’s something that just isn’t tolerated.

If I publish a book that goes nowhere, I can leave it on Amazon, and Kobo, and Apple, and wherever else I choose, essentially forever. And let the royalties dribble in. Simon and Schuster (owned by ViacomCBS) can’t afford to do that.

Thus you see the big corporate boys declaring for many years now that vampires are dead. But on the indie scene, dozens upon dozens of those bloodsuckers can be found. And some are making their creators a lot of money.

The big boys don’t want to continue a fad because they don’t want to be left holding the bag when the fad fizzles out. Or can no longer make enough money to meet their bloated bottom lines when the fad tapers off.

What is significant is that James Patterson has now discovered money can be made at the indie price point and has convinced his publisher to take on his BookShots line. The blurb on Patterson’s website reads in part:

Life moves fast—books should too. Pulse-pounding reads under $5 and 150 pages or less. Impossible to put down.

This comes at a time when many indies are moving to longer books and higher prices — in an attempt to look like the big corporate publishers, and thereby make themselves look more legitimate. A bad move, in my opinion.

Patterson, though, realizes money can be made for him and his publisher at the indie price point. And with shorter books. This is truly a return to the ethos of the 1950s. And I think forecasts good things for indies who can, for the most part, turn out shorter works faster.

Back in the pulp magazine era, many of the magazines cost a dime. Today, depending on what standard you use, that dime would be equal to anywhere between $1.50 and $6. In the 1950s, paperback books could be bought for a quarter. Or $2.50 to $4 in today’s money. Essentially the price range of most indie books today.

I’ve said for quite awhile now, that the indie movement is essentially a return to the Pulp Fiction Era. To be successful, a writer has to turn out a good story in a popular genre that is exciting and generally fast-paced. The writer must also write lots and publish often. To be sure, as an indie, there are more factors involved than what faced the average pulp fictioneer, because today’s indie author is also a publisher. But the basic formula remains the same.

Today is a good day to be a writer. A self-published writer. An independent author/publisher. It’s also a good day to be a reader, because there are many excellent self-published books available to read.

Thars gold in them thar books! So get crackin’!

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading! (and writing!)

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