Demons in the Dunes

Next week Pierce Mostyn and the OUP gang ride again, in another terrifyingly action-packed tale of cosmic horror.

The Rub’ al Khali, or the Empty Quarter, is a fascinating place. I find it almost as intriguing as Antarctica.

What makes the Rub’ al Khali so interesting? It is the largest sand desert in the world. It covers some 250,000 square miles of the southern Arabian Peninsula. The desert is larger than France and somewhat smaller than Texas.

This vast expanse of sand is home to the lost city of Iram, which is mentioned in the Qur’an, and may have been an important city in the ancient frankincense trade.

The Empty Quarter is the setting for Lovecraft’s story “The Nameless City”, and is also the setting for Demons in the Dunes, Pierce Mostyn’s newest adventure.

Did Lovecraft’s story play any part in the origin of Demons in the Dunes? It did. HPL’s story gave me the idea to set an adventure in the Empty Quarter, with Iram as the focal point.

However, the Nameless City of Lovecraft’s story is clearly not Iram. Consequently, the story line of Demons has no direct influence from Lovecraft. Although it is Lovecraftian to a degree.

Little is known about the actual city of Iram. It may have been located on the frankincense caravan route. Legend has it that it was built by giants to challenge God by creating a paradise on earth greater then God’s paradise. God, of course, destroyed the giants and the city.

Iram is called Iram of the Pillars, but we don’t know why. One Internet source, attributed mystical connections to the city. According to this view, Iram actually occupies several planes of existence, and, in accordance with the mystical position, an alternate reading of the city’s title is Iram of the Old Ones. No self-respecting Cthulhu Mythos aficionado can walk away from that tidbit of info and not have the cogs whirring in his brain!

Out of those seeds, Demons in the Dunes grew. I had great fun writing it. I hope you have great fun reading it.

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

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Pierce Mostyn Continues

In two weeks, the sixth Pierce Mostyn Paranormal Investigation, Demons in the Dunes, will hit the virtual bookshelves. And the word is that it’s the best Pierce Mostyn thus far. Which has me quite jazzed. I enjoy writing the Pierce Mostyn books and it’s good to know they are getting better and better.

I follow the school of thought that says don’t fully define your characters. Just start with a brief sketch and let them grow from story to story.

In practice, this means the characters may not come across as fully developed in the first book or two. Personally, I’m okay with that. I like to see a series character grow. And if what my advance readers are telling me is true, the characters are growing. Which means I am becoming more and more comfortable with them. And that is a very good thing.

Demons in the Dunes is also a bit different from the other books in the series in that the setting is not in the United States, but in the Empty Quarter of the Arabian Peninsula. There is nothing like an exotic location to spice a read!

For me, one of the most interesting things to watch in the series is the development of Dr. Rafe Bardon. And Demons reveals yet another side of the good doctor that we haven’t seen before. He is truly one enigmatic fellow!

You can find the entire series here. If you become a VIP reader, you’ll get the novelette “The Feeder” as a gift. It’s another rousing paranormal tale of adventure, and it’s not available in stores.

I’ll have more next week, so stay tuned!

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

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Making Life Pleasant

“I wish… to thank you for your share in making life pleasant for me.” —from a letter, by a reader, to William Wallace Cook

In this little world, so crowded with sorrow and tragedy, what is it worth to have had a share in making life pleasant for a stranger?

—William Wallace Cook, in The Fiction Factory

William Wallace Cook, due to his prolificity, was called “The Man Who Deforested Canada”. Unfortunately for us, and I suppose him, his popularity with the reading public seemingly died when he did in 1933.

A search of the internet yielded no complete bibliography, nor even much of a biography. It seems none of his books are in print. And virtually none have been digitized. I suppose the lack of bibliography is due in part to the many pen names he used, and to a very large portion of his work being published under house names, and a considerable portion of his writing for the 5¢ and10¢ libraries of the day not being credited at all!

Would his present anonymity have bothered Cook? I’m sure I can’t answer that question. However, in his autobiographical The Fiction Factory (published under a pen name!), Cook does not seem to have had an eye to the future. He knew very well he was writing “disposable” fiction. He was not writing the great American novel — he was writing fiction to make a buck to pay the rent and put food on the table. He was an entertainer, much like TV scriptwriters today, and he seemed fine with that.

Then there are the quotes above.

While it’s clear Cook wrote hundreds of novels and stories for money, he was not averse to the writer’s higher calling: making life pleasant for the reader.

If he could, by his typewriter, help to alleviate someone’s sorrow, that was worth more to him then the check he got from the publisher.

I was a prolific poet: writing something over 2000 poems in the space of about 10 years, and seeing several hundred of them in physical and virtual print.

As I’ve said before, there’s no money in poetry. One must seek satisfaction in something other than the almighty dollar. For me, it was hearing from a reader how much one of my poems touched him or her.

Quite honestly, 99% of us will be forgotten by the time our peers and our children are dead. And some of us a lot sooner than that!

What matters most in life is how we touch others. We can be a vehicle of positive energy or one of negative energy.

As a writer, I can crank out books to make a buck — or I can seek to step a bit higher and hopefully make life pleasant for someone. The choice is mine.

I like money. I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t writing in the hopes of making money. However, at the end of the day, I’d rather touch someone, inspire someone, or make life pleasant for someone than bring home shopping carts full of money.

There’s nothing wrong with money. After all we do need it to live. If suddenly my sales took off, I’d be jumping for joy. And I wouldn’t give the money back. But if no one ever told me one of my books made life pleasant for him or her, I would be very sad. Very sad indeed. For though rich, truly I’d be poor.

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

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One Writer’s Story

Tomorrow (October 2nd) is my birthday. I’ll be 67. Usually I like to spend the day quietly; reflecting on my life, and thinking about what I’d like to do in the next year. Eating some good food and maybe a homemade apple pie does help the thinking process. 🙂

As part of that life reflection process, I thought I’d tell y’all a bit of my life as it pertains to writing. So sit back and enjoy one writer’s story.

I was born into a lower middle-class family. The first of four children and the first grandchild on my dad’s side of the family. Because my mom had a very hard life growing up, she made sure I and my siblings had more than what she had when she was growing up. Back in the 60s, she was the only mom working outside of the home that I was aware of.

Back then there was no such thing as white privilege, because there were no minorities in my world. There was only economic privilege: the haves and the have-nots. And compared to my friends, I was one of the have-nots. Even with my mother working and trying to give us all the things she never got. I did not know privilege growing up. I was bullied and made fun of throughout my school years. I was awkward around people and considered a dweeb by my peers.

Being un-privileged and an outsider, meant I grew up without many friends, and was often rather lonely. To fill in all the alone time, I developed a very active imagination. Which has served me well as a writer.

Ever since I can remember I was a reader. My mom wasn’t a good reader, but she made sure I never lacked for books. There was always money for me to buy books from the Weekly Reader and the Scholastic Book Club at school.

Among the first books I remember reading were Scrambled Eggs Super by Dr Seuss; Danny and the Dinosaur by Syd Hoff; Sherlock Holmes; Edgar Allan Poe; Saki; Groff Conklin’s Omnibus of Science Fiction; Men, Martians and Machines by Eric Frank Russell; Costigan’s Needle by Jerry Sohl; and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Hunt Collins (aka Evan Hunter, aka Ed McBain). Notice the adult books in the mix. They were courtesy of the books my uncles left behind, which I found at my grandparents’s house.

My parents also bought a set of World Book Encyclopedias, and I remember spending hours reading them.

I loved books. And still do. I think I can honestly say, they have been my best friends.

And because of my love for books, ever since I can remember I wanted to be a writer. I loved books so much, I wanted to write them.

In spite of my mom’s encouragement to read, neither she nor my dad were at all encouraging of my interest in writing. Nevertheless, they didn’t stop me from getting subscriptions to The Writer and Writer’s Digest when I was in junior high. I suppose they thought my interest in writing was a passing fancy and their steady encouragement for me to pursue a “real career” would eventually win the day. Sad to say, it did for most of my life.

The first thing I remember writing was a pastiche of Jules Verne’s From Earth To The Moon. Instead of the Moon, my spaceship went to Mars. I suppose I was somewhere around eight years old at the time.

The next thing I recall writing was a play while in my 11th grade drama class. The teacher had the class perform it, and I suppose I could call that my first “publishing credit”.

The first piece of writing I had accepted by an editor was a poem in a horror fanzine called The Diversifier. That was around 1971. And poetry remained my sole published output until 2014.

I wrote a few short stories, an attempt at a children’s book, and a novel during those decades, all of which earned me some very fine rejection slips. Very fine, indeed.

It was, though, my poetry that gained me a modicum of fame in the late 1990s and early 2000s. No money. There is no money in poetry writing. None whatsoever. If one is a poet, one must find satisfaction in something other than money. Success must be defined other than monetarily.

Which is why I’m probably satisfied with the pittance I make off my novels, novellas, and short stories. Sure, I’d like to make thousands of dollars every month instead of $10, $20, or $30. But for me, thanks to poetry, success isn’t measured solely by a piece of paper with some dead guy’s mug on it.

At the height of my poetry success, I quit. I was nearing retirement age and, on one of those birthday meditations, decided I wanted to pursue writing fiction for the rest of my life. And so I quit writing poems and started writing novels.

The going was difficult, at first, until I found a writing method that worked for me. And when I did, the words just began to flow.

The Rocheport Saga was first (some 2200+ handwritten pages — it was the guinea pig), along with Do One Thing For Me. Those two were followed by Trio in Death-Sharp Minor, and a completely re-written Festival Of Death (the original dates from 1989), and The Moscow Affair.

My first four books were published in November 2014. I was now an independent author-publisher. And I haven’t looked back. To date I have 25 published books, with number 26 coming out Halloween week.

I retired in January 2015 and have been writing full-time and learning about publishing ever since.

Life is indeed good. I’m living a dream first expressed over 60 years ago. And I’m feeling good.

I’m a very happy man, even without making the money Patterson, or King, or Cussler make. Or even that which my fellow indie authors, such as Mark Dawson, Michael Anderle, TS Paul, PF Ford, or Patty Jansen, make.

What matters is I’m writing. And that’s all that matters.

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

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The Deadly Sin

H. Bedford-Jones, known as “The King of the Pulps” because he was so prolific, made a very decent living selling stories to the fiction magazines of his day. In today’s dollars, he was a millionaire.

He wrote for about six hours every day and had four typewriters going — each with a different story or novel. If he got stuck on one, he slid over to the next machine and started banging out more on that story.

We don’t even know exactly how much he wrote. He was a poor record keeper, and used several pen names. The current tally of his output is 231 novels, 21 novellas, 372 novelettes, and 748 short stories, plus an incredible amount of non-fiction, poetry, radio dramas, and articles. All in a 40 year career. Something over 25 million words he wrote.

So, when I came across a copy of his book This Fiction Business (revised edition, 1929) — I bought it. My thinking being this guy knew a thing or two about writing. The book is quite entertaining, very inspirational, and informative. It’s a bit dated, but the publishing industry hasn’t actually changed all that much in the 90 years since the book was published. Much of the business aspect still applies for those going the traditional publishing route.

Chapter 6 is titled “The Deadly Sin”. In this chapter, HB-J reveals the one thing that holds back new and inexperienced writers from getting published — or, in today’s indie world, from getting readers.

The deadly sin is “The lack of perception as to what must be emphasized…”.

The new writer with little experience often misses the beat when she fails to emphasize what is important in the story from the reader’s perspective.

HB-J gives the example of a friend who couldn’t sell a story, even though he had editors praise it. HB-J read the story and saw the problem right away. The writer had disposed of the climactic conflict in 2 sentences.

Readers don’t want that. They want to fight with the hero or heroine in an arduous contest, perhaps almost lose, and then come out victorious.

Ironically enough, just before reading This Fiction Business, I read a short story in an anthology where the author made the same mistake. In the span of two sentences the story went from very good to ho-hum.

The writer lost me as a reader in those two sentences. I have no desire to read anything else she’s written. I don’t have the money to waste on a book that might have a lackluster climactic scene. Not when there are plenty of very good writers to read.

The art of telling a story is to know how to pace it for the maximum effect you, the writer, want to achieve. You also need to know what your audience is going to want to spend the most time experiencing. Is it the description of a room, or an info dump of background material, or the main character locked in a battle with the villain?

Some writers just naturally know how to tell a story. They’re the ones you want to listen to sitting around the campfire. The rest of us have to learn how to tell a story. And the best way to do that is to, as Stephen King noted, read lots and write lots.

Only by writing story after story do we get the practice needed for us to learn how to tell a good story.

Only by reading story after story, written by those who know how to tell a story, will we gain the feel for how it’s done.

So now, my writing friends, go forth and sin no more.

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

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Rational Anarchism

Lately I’ve been reading post-apocalyptic literature (among other things). Reading how other writers envision the future when humanity has a chance to start over is always interesting, for it reveals how these writers see themselves and their fellows.

One of my first published books was The Morning Star, the first book in The Rocheport Saga. The Saga is the autobiography, as it were, of Bill Arthur, who is a survivor of an unknown plague that wiped out most of earth’s human population. He begins to gather together other survivors in an attempt to reboot civilization. But not the old one that died, a new one that is better.

Much of Bill’s political philosophy is drawn from libertarian writings. The Moon is a Harsh Mistress being one. So I thought I’d re-post one of my writings from the very early days of this blog. Let’s look once again at Rational Anarchism. Enjoy!

Nearly fifty years ago, a writer by the name of Robert A Heinlein wrote and got published a book entitled, The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. One of the principal characters in the novel is Professor Bernardo de la Paz, who describes himself as a “Rational Anarchist”.

What is a Rational Anarchist? Let’s take a look, because the words rational and anarchy seem to be contradictory. A Rational Anarchist:

    • Believes the state, society, and government are concepts which do not exist apart from the physical acts of self-answerable individuals.
    • Believes blame, guilt, responsibility, and answerability makes it impossible for a person to shift, share, or distribute blame.
    • Being rational, the rational anarchist understands not everyone shares his or her views; yet, he or she strives to live perfectly in an imperfect world; completely aware he or she is not capable of achieving perfection.
    • Accepts all rules society deems necessary to secure its freedom and liberty.
    • Is free no matter what the rules are in his or her society. If the rules are tolerable, he or she will tolerate them. If not, the rational anarchist will break them.
    • Is free because the rational anarchist knows only he or she is morally responsible for everything he or she does.

Why do I bring this up? Because Bill Arthur in The Rocheport Saga tries to create a new world along similar lines. He begins as an anarchistic libertarian, seeking on a societal level to create the ultimate environment for freedom.  Eventually he realizes people are people. Even after a calamity which wipes out 98 out of every 100 people, those who survive haven’t essentially changed. The survivors are no different than they were before they were survivors. People want freedom, but actually crave security and will sacrifice freedom for security every time they feel insecure.

In the end, Bill Arthur becomes a Rational Anarchist. He concludes the Stoics were right over 2,000 years ago: all we can ultimately do is control ourselves.

Tell me what you think about freedom and security. Is Bill Arthur right?

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Getting into Books

A writing guru whose mailing list I’m on is always advising us writers to sell the read, not the book. And that’s ultimately what we are all trying to do. Some of us just do so better than the rest of us.

As a reader, that is, of course, exactly what I want to know: where will I be going, what will I be experiencing, feeling, doing as the result of reading this book. The book I’m considering buying, or the one I bought and am considering reading.

I read fiction primarily for entertainment. If I learn something new along the way, or am given cause to stop and think for a moment — extra kudos go to the writer.

For me, reading is no different than watching TV, or a movie, or playing a video game. Except my imagination is doing the work, instead of someone else’s — and that’s what makes reading, IMO, the better form of entertainment. Even the best form. Reading is active. Videos, in all forms, are passive. And active is good. Stretching those imagination muscles is good. It’s why reading is my favorite form of entertainment.

The other day I was reading Lawrence Block’s introduction to one of the editions of Black Orchids, the ninth Nero Wolfe mystery, by Rex Stout.

Block’s observation as to why we reread the Nero Wolfe mysteries is enlightening, and I think a vital key as to why some of us really get into books. Block wrote:

I know several men and women who are forever rereading the Nero Wolfe canon. …

They do this not for the plots, which are serviceable, nor for the suspense, which is a good deal short of hair-trigger even on first reading. Nor, I shouldn’t think, are they hoping for fresh insight into the human condition. No, those of us who reread Rex Stout do so for the pure joy of spending a few hours in the most congenial household in American letters, and in the always engaging company of Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin.

… we know these two, and it is a joy to see them simply being themselves.

What Block wrote describes to a T why I thoroughly enjoy rereading the Nero Wolfe mysteries. Stout wrote in such a way that we are the fly on the wall observing the goings on in that delightful brownstone.

I’d go one step further than Mr Block: any book I read is for the characters. I don’t read for the plot. One reason, I suppose, why I enjoy plotless novels. I also don’t read for the suspense, which I prefer rather low key. And I’m old enough that I probably won’t learn anything new about the human condition.

I read for the characters — pure and simple. The experience of meeting new and interesting people.

If a writer can deliver the goods, characters I can fall in love with, then he has me hook, line, and sinker. I don’t care what else is in, or not in, the book.

Unfortunately, this does not occur all that often. Most writers seem obsessed with the plot. They are too busy counting plot points or beats, writing a detailed outline, following the Hero’s Quest, or whatever other nonsense is being pushed by the writing guru of the moment.

Most writers fail to heed Bradbury’s Dictum: create your characters, let them do their thing, and there’s your story.

Fiction is not about the plot — it’s about the characters. The characters are the ones who pull us into the settings, the time period, the world they inhabit.

I cannot recall one book where I walked away remembering the plot and not the characters. Not a single one.

At base, plots are simple. There are at most just a handful of stories. They are mundane at best. But characters, like people, are complex. Everyone has an outer life and an inner life. Good characters are no different.

Which is more interesting? Tarzan, or the plot of a Tarzan novel? Dirk Pitt, or the plot of a Dirk Pitt novel? Sherlock Holmes, or the plot of a Sherlock Holmes story?

Many of us would like to get into a spaceship and fly off to other worlds. I don’t remember a single plot in Eric Frank Russell’s Men, Martians, and Machines. But I do remember the chess playing octopoid Martians, and the android Jay Score.

Good characters pull us into their world. We become one with them and experience what they experience. This is because the writer can’t give us everything. He can only suggest, and once he does our imaginations take over and do the rest.

This is not the case with even a good movie or TV episode. That’s because we’re passive. Everything is fed to us. We can only react. We are limited to what’s on the screen — which is why special effects are becoming increasingly important.

However, my imagination can do what special effects will never be able to do. My imagination is mine and makes the story live for me. Special effects are general. They target everyone, and in the end that means they shoot for the lowest common denominator. My imagination produces special effects tailored for me.

The secret to a good book lies in the characters. They make any old plot shine. Because it’s the characters who make the plot come alive. Create the characters, let them do their thing — and there is the story.

As a reader, I appreciate the wonderful characters good writers create.

As a writer, I appreciate the readers who fall in love with my characters.

No greater compliment was paid to me then when this review appeared for Trio in Death-Sharp Minor:

Some fictional universes are just places you want to be, and I have been so moved by the world CW Hawes has created for private detective Justinia Wright and her brother, Harry. … I would drop by their house any time, if only for a glass of Madeira.

Tina and Harry’s home will never top that of Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin. However, I will be very satisfied if I’m granted second place.

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

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Entertainment

Last week I talked about commercial fiction and mentioned that commercial fiction is “what most people want”. This week, I’d like to explore that notion a bit further.

Storytelling is, at base, entertainment. Fiction is merely the written extension of storytelling. Ever since human beings gathered around a fire at the end of the day, they’ve been telling each other stories. When writing was invented, the good stories were written down and thus fiction was born.

When I surveyed my mailing list subscribers not too long ago and asked why they read fiction, almost everyone who answered said it was to escape. We look for the excitement that’s lacking in our lives in the stories someone else wrote down about people with more exciting lives than our own.

H. Bedford-Jones perhaps put it best, when he wrote that the business of fiction “is simply to make its readers forget their troubles.” 

As a writer, let me confess right now that part of the reason I write is to vicariously experience the lives of the characters I create — lives far more exciting than my own.

And since I’m a reader as well, I’ll confess right now I read in order to vicariously experience things I never could in real life. I’m an armchair survivalist, adventurer, private investigator, monster hunter, you name it.

Romance novels are perhaps the best proof that fiction exists for entertainment. They are the ultimate in escapist literature. The romance novel, in all its forms, provides the reader with the perfect experience of love. We all desire to find Mr or Miss Right. And we can do so in the pages of a romance novel. When in reality we may not be so lucky.

But maybe you’re happily married, or happily settled in with your partner, and you have no need to dream about that perfect relationship. On the other hand, your job… Now that’s another story.

However, in the pages of a book, you can experience any job you want. Or you can do your job on Mars, or Delta Cygnus IV.

Don’t have a lot of money? You can in the pages of a book.

Fiction entertains us. It lets us escape from the humdrum. It lets us experience vicariously what we can’t experience in reality.

Being an avid reader and accumulator of books, I can look back and see how my interests have changed over the course of my life.

At one time dinosaurs were my passion. Then sailing ships. After that airships. I can see when my interests waxed, waned, and circled back to wax again. My science fiction and fantasy books date from when I was young. My mysteries from the 1980s. Horror, in all its various forms, goes back to my childhood, with a big upswing occurring in the 70s.

As of right now I mostly read mysteries, followed by horror. There is the occasional post-apocalyptic novel. Or space opera, or adventure story, or sea yarn. But when push comes to shove, I find myself reaching for that private eye novel, or that ghost story.

These are the stories that entertain me the most. They are the stories that provide me with a different and more exciting life.

And ten years from now? Who knows? I do know, so one thing. I’ll be reading something I find entertaining.

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

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Commercial Fiction

Commercial fiction has existed ever since that first storyteller figured out he could get paid for telling stories. Paid on a regular basis, that is. That genius is lost to the mists of time, sad to say, but his legacy lives on.

The seeds of modern commercial fiction began in the 1700s with such money making gems as Pamela and Varney the Vampire. And continued into the 1800s, first with anonymous potboilers, such as those written by Louisa May Alcott, and stories from the pens of Poe, Dickens, and Trollope; and then on to the penny dreadfuls, the five-cent novels, and ten-cent novels of the later 1800s.

Commercial fiction blossomed in the 20th Century beginning in the 1920s and it continues unabated to this day.

So just exactly what is commercial fiction? H. Bedford-Jones (dubbed King of the Pulps) put it this way:

Look at magazine fiction. Has it any pretensions, any purpose, other than to entertain the reader? Absolutely none. A fiction magazine shuns in horror all propaganda, religious controversy, and boresome highbrow effusions. Its business is simply to make its readers forget their troubles and come again for more.

Edgar Rice Burroughs was even more straightforward:

No fiction is worth reading except for entertainment. If it entertains and is clean, it is good literature, or its kind. If it forms the habit of reading, in people who might not read otherwise, it is the best literature.

The bottom line is this: commercial fiction’s sole purpose is to entertain. And I would add — make money for the writer.

The writer of commercial fiction is an entertainer. No different than a singer, or a magician, or a carnival busker, or any sort of performer.

However, we writers aren’t told this. At least not by our English lit teachers in high school or college. And certainly not by creative writing professors.

Why? Well, the establishment only values what’s called literary fiction. That is, books and stories that have a message and are written with the message foremost in mind, not whether or not the story entertains. It may entertain, but that’s not its purpose.

Now the irony of this view lies in the fact that much so-called “literary” fiction was in its day commercial fiction.

One need go no further than Shakespeare. Bill did not sit down and write Hamlet or MacBeth or The Taming of the Shrew with the literary value of these stories in mind. He was writing to make a few quid to keep a roof over his head, food on the table, and to make sure his wife and mistress were happy.

Yet while making a buck, Bill wrote some great literature. Funny how that worked out.

Louisa May Alcott turned to writing anonymous potboilers to put food on the table and pay the rent because her head-in-the-clouds father, Bronson Alcott, didn’t have a clue as to how to support his family. Louisa May also wrote Little Women to keep the wolf from the door. The rest, as they say, is history.

Edgar Allan Poe wrote commercial fiction. He told stories for money. So did Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Rudyard Kipling, and H. Rider Haggard. And for that matter, so did J.K. Rowling.

Yet the academics, even for JKR, try their best to hide the filthy lucre aspect and dub the writings of those folks as great literature.

Even JRR Tolkien wasn’t trying to write great literature. He kind of thought of himself as this reincarnated Norse bard who was telling a story in the king’s great hall. And why did bards do that? To entertain their host as payment for a meal and a bed.

Robert E Howard wrote stories to make a buck. He was writing to entertain. In the process, he wrote some very fine literature. The same with Dickens, and Trollope, and Alcott, and Wells, and Dumas, and Verne, and most of the writers who wrote what is today called great literature.

I’ve been thinking about this distinction between literary fiction and commercial fiction, because of my interest in the writers who wrote for the pulp magazines. They wrote for money. They weren’t writing great literature. They were writing entertainment. Yet sometimes they did indeed write great literature, or at least fiction that came close to great literature.

One of the best statements on religious belief that I’ve read is in the second Tarzan novel. Who would’ve guessed?

H. Rider Haggard’s She was written as entertainment, but the story drives us to think about the purpose of life. And that is exactly what great literature is supposed to do.

Commercial fiction isn’t bad. It’s what most people want. So why shouldn’t someone write it for them?

Quite honestly, I mostly read commercial fiction. I think Hemingway’s “Hills Like White Elephants” is a fabulous story. So much is said by not saying anything. It’s a thought-provoking and memorable piece of fiction. But I’d much rather read Robert E Howard’s Solomon Kane stories. Why? Because they’re fun.

This exploration of mine into the writers of pulp fiction and the stories that they wrote has given me a lot to reflect on concerning my own path as a writer.

Given my present course, I see myself in a kind of fictional no man’s land. I’m not writing literary fiction and I’m not writing commercial fiction. As a result, I’m not making much money. And I do want to make money. At least enough to cover my expenses.

I’m not sure what the future will bring. How this exploration will affect my writing if it affects it at all. Because the actual writing is only one piece of the puzzle. There are also the other pieces: catchy titles, catchy cover art, catchy blurbs, effective marketing (both paid and unpaid). And who you know.

We can’t forget the who you know factor. If Mark Dawson, or Michael Anderle, or Agatha Frost, or Scott Pratt suddenly started promoting my books — why, my problems would be over.

All of the above, plays into the end result.

So I’m off to have a think. Not a heavy think. Just a let it simmer think. In the meantime, I’m going to have a cup of tea and read Ganbaru, written by Matthew Cormack, who’s one of my favorite post-apocalyptic writers. He entertains, and makes me think. What can be better than that?

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

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The Indie Writer’s Key to Success

Every day I’m in contact with indie authors (independent author-publishers) who are looking to make it big and are languishing in obscurity.

Back in 2014, when I started publishing, the indie world was changing. The old days were for all intents and purposes gone. The days of simply writing and putting your books up on Amazon, making the first book in your series free or 99¢, and collecting the money. Those days ended in 2014.

Unfortunately, all of the successful writers from whom I was getting my advice, didn’t see the newer, more difficult world coming.

Hindsight is always 20/20.

However, 5 years later, as I continue to look for monetary success, there remain three keys that all successful indie writers follow. These worked in the past and they work now. And while I do follow these three keys, I haven’t struck gold — yet. But that doesn’t mean others haven’t done so by following these keys — for they have.

So, my writer friends, and interested reader friends, lets take a look at these keys. But first,

The Base

Success always builds on a strong base. For writers that base is:

      1. Good writing. You have to know how to tell a story. The story your target audience wants to hear in the way they want to hear it. If you can’t tell a good story, you need to learn how before you do anything else.
      2. A good looking package. Your book needs to look appealing. That means appropriate cover art for the genre. Cover art that looks professional.
      3. A pleasant reading experience. The text needs to be well formatted and free of typos and textual issues as much as possible.

Now on to the keys!

Publish Often

Every successful indie author publishes often. “Often”, of course, is subject to debate. How often is often?

There is a well-known phenomenon on Amazon: the 30 day cliff. Publish a book and after 30 days, it drops off the charts. I’ve seen this with my own books. I’d get a few sales in the first 30 days, and after that nothing.

The best way to beat the 30 day cliff is by publishing often.

January through March of 2018 I published the first three Pierce Mostyn books. One each month. Sales didn’t start falling off until July. I published Van Dyne’s Vampires in October, but it was too late to revive dropping sales. The advantage I’d gained from the rapid release was gone.

The lesson I learned was — I can’t wait 7 months to release my next book. 

At a minimum, I think indie authors need to publish a book every 3 months. Quarterly is the minimum publishing schedule to maintain some kind of momentum.

However, every other month would be even better.

And monthly is ideal.

Why?

It has has to do with the nature of the indie audience. The readers of indie authored books tend to be voracious readers. Reading several books a week. Or more.

I’m a rather slow reader. Yet I manage to read at least 2 books a month and usually more.

Indie writers need to publish often to feed the indie reader. 

If you don’t publish often — you will be forgotten. 

Remember, thousands of books are added to Amazon’s catalog every day.

Write Fast

The corollary to Publish Often is to write fast.

In the pulp era, fast writing meant food on the table and a roof over the writer’s head.

Hugh B Cave averaged 5 to 6 stories every week. That’s easily equivalent to 2 novels a month.

Erle Stanley Gardner, while working full time as a partner in his law firm, wrote 100,000 words a month. And in the beginning of his writing career he was experiencing a 90% rejection rate.

My hero, Anthony Trollope, while working full time at the post office, wrote 2,500 words per day.

If you want to make money, if you want readers, writing must be viewed as a job. A business. Set goals and keep them.

Trollope wrote what I think is a doable daily quota. He used writing sprints (he apparently invented them) to achieve his daily goal. He timed himself and aimed for 250 words every 15 minutes.

Using a 15 minute sprint, I’ve easily surpassed 250 words in that 15 minutes. So Trollope’s word count is achievable. And the nice thing about writing sprints is that you can scatter them throughout the day if you have to in order to achieve your word count.

A goal of 2,000 words/day, if met, will produce 730,000 words in a year. That’s a dozen 60,000 word novels. Does any writer actually need more than that?

Write in Series

The final key is that indie authors must write in series. Why? Because indie readers want to read series of books rather than standalone novels.

The readers of traditionally published books tend to read fewer books and are okay with the standalone novel. Not so, indie readers.

Indie readers also prefer novels to short stories. And novels to even novellas. Something to keep in mind.

Summary

Write fast, in series, and publish often. That is the baseline. If you aren’t doing those things, you are setting yourself a nearly impossible task if you want to gain readers and make money from your writing.

Advertising won’t do it. A mailing list won’t do it. A website or a closed Facebook group won’t do it. There are no substitutes.

Michael Anderle fast published his way to a half million a year income from writing. Advertising helped — but only after the series was selling. He knew he could pour money into advertising because the series was already selling on its own.

For me, I know publishing a book a month isn’t realistic. I don’t write fast enough. But I do think once a quarter is doable.

So there it is. Go forth my friends and write and publish and then write some more!

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

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