CW | CW Hawes - Part 27

Some Suggested Reads

It’s summer in Houston. Tropical heat and humidity. TG for AC.

The other day I was saying to my wife that when we lived in Minnesota we stayed indoors in the winter. Moving to Houston, we now stay indoors in the summer. And when one has to stay in it is a good time to raid the bookshelf.

Of course, in truth, any time is a good time to read a novel. From the comfort of my easy chair, with the AC on (or the heat in winter), hot tea at hand, I can take any number of adventures.

I can leave earth entirely, or I can travel to a fantasy world that only exists in the writer’s and his reader’s minds.

If I want, I can go to another city, or another country.

I can do all of that and never leave the comforts of home. Just by reading a book.

If you happen to be looking for something to read this summer (or winter, if you live on that part of the globe) I have a few suggestions for you.

Church Mouse by RH Hale

I recently re-read this incredible novel to refresh my memory and prepare for Church Mouse: The Change, which I’m currently reading.

How Ms Hale can generate such tension and suspense from her slowburn Gothic style is beyond me. As a writer, I’m in awe. As a reader, I’m in love — and chewing my fingernails down to the quick.

But tension and suspense aren’t the only thing. She excels at painting a word picture that lets you experience the setting. And she gives you characters that are so life-like, you’ll swear you’ve run across them in real life.

These two books are good reading anytime. They are amongst the best vampire novels out there. And they are so much more. They’ll get you thinking about what it means to be human.

Exit and 01134 by Crispian Thurlborn

Mr Thurlborn is one of my favorite authors. His imagination gives rise to fabulous stories.

Exit is a dreampunk tale that examines if we are truly free to do as we want and change who we are. It is a superb addition to the ranks of weird fiction.

01134 is another stupendous addition. This book examines loneliness. It examines choices we make, or don’t make. It is a book that takes us to The Twilight Zone.

Your Arms Around Entropy and Other Stories by Brian Fatah Steele

I love short stories. A well-written short story, IMO, is more satisfying than a long novel. I know there are people who don’t like short stories. I feel sorry for them.

Mr Steele is a very accomplished writer, and this collection of short stories blew me away. I went out and bought all of his books.

These are dark tales that will make you fear the dark. They are superb examples of contemporary Lovecraftian fiction.

Keep the light on if you read these at night.

All of the above recommendations are dark, quite dark. Maybe you prefer lighter fare. If that’s the case, the next two fit the bill quite nicely.

Agonising: The Problem Page Letters of Jean Price and Raine Vincent by Ernestine Marsh

Ms Marsh has a knack for humor and the witty turn of phrase. She also is quite at home dishing out biting satire. You’ll find both in Agonising. You’ll also have to take periodic reading breaks to catch your breath and give your stomach a break from all the laughing.

The Garden of Jane Pengelly by Stephen A Howells

This book is a hidden gem. It took me completely by surprise — a very pleasant surprise. It is a sweet and tender paranormal love story. Not normally my cup of tea. No, not by a long shot. Yet, I was drawn in by Mr Howell’s wonderful storytelling. And yes, it brought tears to my eyes. Definitely not one to miss!

The above ought to keep you going for awhile. I’ll be back next week with more gems for your ereader or bookshelf.

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

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Good Villains

What makes the hero (or heroine) stand out, and show us what he (or she) is made of, is the villain. The hero’s nemesis.

Who can forget the Wicked Witch of the West? Or Inspector Javert?

A memorable villain will make a story a success, even more so then a memorable hero. Because the hero must triumph over the villain to win. The bigger the villain, the bigger the triumph.

Of course, an author can shake things up. Take Macbeth, for example. Where a hero becomes his own worst enemy, aided by his lovingly ambitious wife. The same can be said for Stevens in The Remains of the Day, where he is the villain to his own hero.

Generally, though, the villain and the hero are two separate persons. Both want something and are at cross purposes in the achieving.

A good villain can even save what might otherwise be a mediocre production. The TV show Colony, canceled after three seasons (which is a shame), in my opinion, was carried on the back of the villain Alan Snyder. The hero and heroine, Will and Katie Bowman, were lackluster characters (nor was the acting very good for their parts).

What made Colony a success, I think, was the complexity of the character of the bad guy. Alan Snyder was someone you justifiably hated, and yet empathized with because in many ways he is us. He personified the dilemma of survival.

There are many great villains in literature. A few of them are:

Augustus Melmotte in The Way We Live Now by Anthony Trollope

Count Dracula in Dracula by Bram Stoker

Captain Ahab in Moby Dick by Herman Melville

O’Brien in 1984 by George Orwell

Fagin in Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens

Mrs Danvers in Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

Four of my favorites are:

Mrs Proudie in Barchester Towers by Anthony Trollope

Mrs De Ropp in “Sredni Vashtar” by Saki

She in She by H Rider Haggard

Cthulhu in “The Call of Cthulhu” by HP Lovecraft

Mrs Proudie, like Lady MacBeth, is driven by ambition. However, operating in Victorian society, Mrs Proudie must take a different approach than did Lady MacBeth in achieving the goals of her ambition.

Mrs Proudie whips her milk toast husband, the bishop, up the ladder of clerical success — and she steps on whoever gets in his way. Trollope makes it quite clear early on that it is indeed Mrs Proudie who wears the trousers in the Proudie household. The bishop’s attempt at taking over the reins of his life are quickly quashed.

Mrs Proudie is not a nice person. Unlike Lady MacBeth, she doesn’t have anyone do the dirty work for her, nor is she the least bit repentant.

Mrs De Ropp, for me, represents the evil of duty, and manners, and expectations — all hidden under a façade of do-goodism. Mrs De Ropp does what is proper and expected and in the process is killing Conradin. And she doesn’t seem to care.

She, or She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed, is the ultimate jealous bitch. She kills her lover in a jealous rage, then bathes in the magic fire so she can live forever until her true love is reborn and they can be reunited.

In the meantime, she enslaves a whole nation of African tribal folk to serve her. She takes a woman scorned to a whole new level of meaning.

By the way, her actual name was Ayesha, and she was an Arab. Her lover was Egyptian and she wanted to rule Egypt. Ambitious to boot.

The ultimate question about Cthulhu is this: is he truly evil, or just indifferent?

When it comes to, let’s say ants, are we evil or just indifferent? There are ants on the sidewalk. Do you step on them, or over them? Do you even notice them?

Given Lovecraft’s worldview, I’m inclined to say Cthulhu and his ilk are merely indifferent. On the other hand, an argument can be made for the evil of indifference.

Put yourself in the place of the ant. Now contemplate humans.

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

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Men! Read Fiction — It’s Good for your Brain!

Men are a marketing demographic. Retailers know this, and market accordingly. Check any website or catalog that carries goods for both men and women. The retailer segregates the two, and makes separate appeals based on what motivates each sex to “Buy! Buy! Buy!”

So why the heck are publishers ignoring men? We noted last week that the publishing industry (and by extension, authors) ignores men in favor of women. Why write off half of the potential marketplace?

That doesn’t sound like a wise business strategy to me. Perhaps that’s why traditional publishing is constantly re-trenching and brick-and-mortar bookstores are in trouble. I remember when there were scores of publishing companies. All independent. All vying for authors and their books. Today they are all imprints or divisions of 5 mega-corporations. A very sad state of affairs.

So why do publishers and many authors ignore men? It’s because they believe the myth that men don’t read, and especially don’t read fiction. Note the operative phrase: believe the myth.

Popular indie author Mark Dawson has said that the readership of his John Milton thriller series is more or less evenly split between men and women. Perhaps somewhat shading towards men, but not by a large margin.

The books in the series generally rank in the top 5,000 in the overall paid Kindle store and in the top 100 of such sub-categories as Crime Action & Adventure.

Readers buy hundreds of Dawson’s books every day and at least half of them are men. And he is just one writer.

Men don’t read fiction? Rubbish!

However, I will concede that there are men out there who don’t read fiction (in fact, I know one).

So for those men in your life who don’t read fiction, this post is for them.

I’m going to riff off of an Art of Manliness blog which is very good and I encourage everyone to read it.

Reading fiction is good for people in general, but is especially good for men who lack in some of the skills at which women naturally excel. Yes, guys, the women have us at a disadvantage and we need to play catch up. So let’s have at it!

Reading Fiction Strengthens Your Theory of Mind

At the risk of over simplifying, theory of mind is our ability to perceive what others are thinking, feeling, and perceiving. It’s our ability to get inside another person’s head. It’s our ability to “read” another person.

We see someone smile. Theory of mind is what tells us if, to us, the smile is warm and genuine, or perfunctory, or phony.

The famous poisoned cup scene in The Princess Bride is a hilarious example of theory of mind at work.

On the opposite side of the coin, when a baby puts his hands over his face and thinks because he can’t see me that I can’t see him — that’s a theory of mind fail.

Women are better at theory of mind than men. However, there’s an easy way for men to strengthen their theory of mind muscle — yep, that’s right: read fiction.

Studies have shown that reading fiction strengthens one’s theory of mind. So let’s hear it for reading fiction!

Reading Fiction Makes You More Empathetic

Empathy is when you feel what the other person is feeling. Empathy is having the same emotional reaction as someone else.

If my friend tells me his mother died, I know what he is going through because I’ve had the same experience. And most likely experienced the same emotions he is experiencing.

Women are generally more empathetic than men. So once again, guys, we need to even the score. We need to read fiction on a consistent basis to strengthen those empathy muscles.

Why is empathy important? Humans are creatures of feeling. Sure we think. But feelings are primary. They are lodged in the oldest part of our brains. When we can share feelings with another person, doing so builds a bond between us and them. And that breaks down barriers. Bonding builds relationships and civilizations. Civilizations you say? Yep. Because a civilization is nothing more than a group of people who’ve bonded together.

So, men, if you aren’t reading fiction — hop to it! We have a civilization to build!

Reading Fiction Increases Creativity

Reading fiction is a form of play. A form of make believe.

Reading fiction allows you to experience the world in new ways, or to experience new worlds. Fiction allows you to pretend you’re someone else, and do things you’d not normally do — or maybe never do.

Fiction allows us to re-evaluate beliefs. It challenges our preconceived notions. Makes us defend, or toss, our beliefs.

Nearly half of us are at least in part kinesthetic/tactile learners. That means we learn best by acting and playing and by hands on experience. In other words, we learn best by doing something while getting the information.

Fiction reading, being a form of play, is one of the best ways for kinesthetic/tactile learners to learn new ideas, to learn about life. This is especially true if the reading experience is out loud and shared with one or more people.

Fiction stimulates our creativity. It helps us to be dynamic, creative beings. So, guys, let’s read some books!

The Type of Fiction Doesn’t Matter

The positive effects upon the mind of reading fiction are not tied to a specific genre or “quality” of fiction. In this case, all fiction is equal. Read the classics. Read westerns, or sports stories, or spy thrillers. Read comic books or graphic novels. It doesn’t matter. It’s all good.

What does matter is that you read — and that you read fiction.

So men, if you aren’t reading fiction, pick up a book and dig in. Or get an audio book if you’d rather listen. It’s all good.

Women may be from Venus, but men are from Mars — and Martians read fiction!

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

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Men’s Fiction

There is in the publishing industry a definite bias towards women. Jason Pinter’s excellent article in the 25 May 2011 HuffPost, “Why Men Don’t Read: How Publishing is Alienating Half the Population”, explains the reason for and critiques this bias. I think he is right on target.

What’s worse is when publishers grudgingly admit that maybe men do read, they’ll immediately add — but they don’t read fiction!

I think that’s about as true as the fact horses have feathers.

Men do read fiction. I won’t believe anyone who tries to tell me men don’t read Clive Cussler, or Lee Child, or Tom Clancy, or William W Johnstone. Or when they were boys didn’t read Sherlock Holmes, or Tarzan, or Doc Savage. I just won’t believe it.

Porter Anderson, in a 26 December 2013 post on Jane Friedman’s blog, “Men Don’t Read Fiction? BULL! — Writing on the Ether”, explodes the publishing myth that men don’t read fiction. Do take a read. It’s an excellent post.

I think part of the problem is the ever increasing focus on women in our society, as a way to right their previous inequality. We’ve seen an explosion of genres and categories that target women. Starting with the very explicit Women’s Fiction.

There’s nothing wrong with marketing books to a particular demographic. Nothing. In fact, it’s good business. But if it’s good business to market to women, why isn’t it also good business to market to men? I’m a man, and I read. I even read fiction. In fact, I mostly read fiction. I certainly can’t be the only guy who does.

In an exceedingly insightful paper written by Kate Summers and published in the Spring 2013 (Vo. 52, No. 3) issue of RUSA, Ms Summers provides us with information that supports what we already know but fail to act on: men and women are different — and have very different reading interests and habits.

For example, Summers points out that the culprit in fostering this bias against the male reader may in fact be the public school system.

She notes the belief that “boys’ under achievement in reading is a result of a school curriculum that is ‘biased towards girls’ reading interests’ or a product of the predominance of female teachers versus male teachers, which contributes to boys’ perception of reading as being a feminine pursuit.”

Young boys, who certainly don’t want girl germs, aren’t going to be interested in fiction geared towards girls. Why? Because boys have very different interests vis-a-vis girls.

Summers cites a classroom study of 6 boys, which just so happens to coincide with my own experience: namely, that boys will read fiction that ties in with their interests.

Early on, I was fascinated with dinosaurs. Consequently, I liked stories that featured dinosaurs; such as, Danny and the Dinosaur and The Shy Stegosaurus of Cricket Creek. As my interests developed, so did my interest in fiction on those topics.

If you want boys to read fiction, find out what they’re interested in and give them fiction to read on those subjects.

Girls will read Betsy, Tacy, and Tib; and the boys will read Star Rangers. And all will be well with the world.

So if we were to have a new BISAC fiction code for Men’s Fiction (one doesn’t exist now, while women have FIC044000 FICTION/Women) what would be the characteristics of this category, or genre? What would make it different from Women’s Fiction?

Based on the information cited in Ms Summer’s article, I put forward the following as a starting point.

Men’s Fiction would in general

Be written by men (perhaps women using a male pen name)
Have a male protagonist
Contain elements of the genres preferred by men, such as adventure, humor, horror, and science fiction
Have believable characters with whom they can identify
Be realistic fiction that deals with contemporary problems of people

Which means if male authors want to attract male readers they need to re-think their reliance on the kick-ass heroine as the protagonist. While the kick-ass heroine may attract some male readers, as a whole men don’t like female main characters. This is because men have a greater need to identify with the protagonist than do women. Something to think about.

Robert E Howard recognized this. He paired his kick-ass heroines with a man. She might be the star, but there was a man there so his mainly male readers wouldn’t get turned off.

Erle Stanley Gardner noted that one of the reasons for the popularity of Sherlock Holmes was due to “the extreme masculine atmosphere and the yearning for freedom.” After a time, even the most happily married man begins to feel squeezed by his responsibilities to his family. He may be tied to a job he doesn’t like. He may have doctor bills. Chores like cutting the grass, or painting the house. There are dirty diapers, lack of sleep, and the Terrible Twos.

Holmes and Watson were blissfully free from all those things. Their extremely masculine world is something every guy dreams of — no matter how much he may love his wife and kids.

Gardner also wrote:

Every story, or rather, every type of story that has succeeded has the common point of a single man, unaided, overcoming difficulties by the inherent power that is within him and attached to him.

I’m not sure this applies as much to women’s fiction, but it sure as heck applies to men’s fiction. That is every man’s dream: To conquer the impossible without any help or aid. It is the essence of the adventure story, a genre much preferred by men — not women.

I don’t know if I’d get anywhere marketing books as Men’s Fiction. I suppose I can give it a try. There is, after all, #MensFiction on Twitter.

Men do read fiction. They aren’t as social about their reading as women, which may account for all those surveys which say men don’t read. But they do read and they do tell other men the books they’ve read.

With the advent of e-readers, there is a new privacy when reading in public. No longer can the world see your book cover. This may work to the advantage of men. They can read their guilty pleasures, Conan the Barbarian, Doc Savage, and Longarm, and not get questioning looks. Something to think about.

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

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HP Lovecraft and Robert E Howard

Reading has been a huge part of my life. And quite frankly still is. Long before I developed an interest in music, I was reading.

Don’t get me wrong. I very much enjoy music. But I was a reader long before I was a music aficionado.

When I was a kid I frequently got to spend the whole day at my grandparents’s place. My grandmother used to insist that my brother and I take a nap in the afternoon. I suppose she just wanted us out of her hair for an hour or two.

I’ve never been a napper, and I used that “quiet time” to read. I’d rummage around in my uncle’s books and find something to occupy my time. Some of the books, maybe most of them, weren’t age appropriate. But they were there and nobody said I couldn’t read them.

One of the books I treasured was Groff Conklin’s Omnibus of Science Fiction. The book was published in 1952, the year I was born, and has some absolutely fabulous stories within its covers. And it was in the Omnibus where I discovered HP Lovecraft, through his story “The Color Out Of Space”; an amazing tale of sci-fi horror.

Years later, I picked up the Beagle Books reprinting of the Arkham edition of HPL’s works and discovered HPL in full.

My introduction to Robert E Howard occurred somewhat after my purchase of the Beagle HPL paperbacks in the early 1970s.

A friend of mine at the time mentioned that he thought one of the scariest stories ever written was Howard’s “Pigeons from Hell”.

Intrigued, I went out and bought the Lancer paperback The Dark Man and Others, which contains “Pigeons from Hell” and 14 other fantastic journeys into the weird.

I fell in love with Howard. “Pigeons from Hell” is not only an excellent example of Southern Gothic, it is indeed one of the spookiest stories I’ve ever read.

There is an ongoing debate as to which of the two is the real master of weird fiction. In the circles that I traveled in, Lovecraft was acknowledged as the master. However, being the iconoclast that I am, I held out for REH. My argument was that at their very best the two were equal.

However, of the two, I argued that REH was consistently better than HPL. The overall quality of Howard’s weird fiction is higher than that of Lovecraft.

I realize my position is a minority view. And I think the debate ultimately boils down to one of taste.

When Lovecraft was on top of his game, he was the master of slowburn, atmospheric weird fiction. And there is none finer.

There’s nothing slowburn about Howard. He was the quintessential man of action. His finest weird tales are replete with action.

There’s also the differences in the main characters of the two writers. Lovecraft’s narrators often exist on the edge of sanity. They are not known for their physical prowess, and are often bookish intellectuals. Even their names tend to be unknown, or little mentioned.

Howard, on the other hand, wrote about vibrant characters. Characters that were full of life. Characters, even the women, that were physically and emotionally strong. King Kull, Conan, Solomon Kane, Bran Mak Morn, Red Sonja. Perhaps this was the case because Howard wrote in series, or at least conceptualized his heroes and heroines as series characters. Lovecraft did not. His main characters for the most part make sole appearances, with the implication that they will not survive. And they don’t. We usually never see them again.

In some ways, my Pierce Mostyn series tips the hat to both of these giants of weird fiction. There is the slowburn, but there is also action. Pierce Mostyn is something of a fusion of HPL and REH. And in that perhaps he’s all CWH.

I owe a lot to HP Lovecraft and Robert E Howard. The two giants of weird fiction. Both have influenced my approach to the genre, and how I think it should be written. And if Pierce Mostyn comes across to readers as a fusion of those two giants, I will be very satisfied.

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

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The Western

One of the staples of TV entertainment when I was growing up was the Western. The TV Western was popular because the Western was a very popular genre for books and short stories.

Here is a partial list of the shows I remember:

The Lone Ranger
Death Valley Days
Davy Crockett
The Adventures of Rin Tin Tin
Zorro
Gunsmoke
Broken Arrow
Maverick
Have Gun — Will Travel
Wagon Train
Bat Masterson
Lawman
The Rifleman
The Rebel
Rawhide
Bonanza
The Virginian
The Wild Wild West
The Big Valley
Daniel Boone
Laredo
F Troop
The High Chaparral

Then in the 1960s things began to change. Spy shows became the in thing (thank you James Bond) and the Western began a slow ride into the sunset. By the late 1970s, both Western TV shows and fiction were pretty much passé.

However, for lovers of the Western, things just might be turning around. TV shows have aired to a fair degree of popularity. Shows such as

Godless
The Pinkertons
Hell on Wheels
Deadwood
Into the West
Longmire

These shows are very different from their 1950s and 60s cousins. There is often more blood and gore. A lot more. There is much more foul language. There is nudity, sometimes lots of it. There are women in main roles. They take a more sympathetic view of Native Americans. And they present us with a more accurate, and more ugly view of American history.

Western fiction today is very much a niche market, being divided into several sub-categories, such as Classic Western, Western Romance, Weird West, and Steampunk.

A look at Amazon’s top 100 bestselling Westerns reveals that all of the books are in the top 5000 in the paid Kindle store. The #1 Western (which by the way doesn’t happen to be a romance), was written by an indie author, and ranked #154 in the overall paid Kindle store. Pretty doggone good, if you ask me. Especially for a genre that is supposed to be dead.

Even James Patterson (co-authored with Andrew Bourelle) has a Western. Its 46 pages long and Hachette charges $9.99 for the story. And some people complain that my Nightmare in Agate Bay, being 72 pages long, is too expensive priced at $2.99! I guess indie authors are just supposed to give their books away. Bullsh*t.

Now you might ask why am I talking about Westerns. After all, I don’t write them and I very rarely read them.

Well, last year I read Jacquie Rogers’s Hot Work in Fry Pan Gulch. The book was very funny and very good.

For #IndieApril on Twitter, I read Chris Derrick’s The Tainted Dollar. A doggone good classic Western.

Between those two novels, I watched

A Fistful of Dollars
For a Few Dollars More, and
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.

And now I’m hooked on Hell on Wheels and I’m re-watching The Wild Wild West.

I guess I do indeed enjoy a good Western. To balance out the movies and TV shows, I may have to put Zane Grey, Max Brand, and Louis L’Amour on my TBR list and maybe a few indie authored books as well.

In a way, the Western is as American as apple pie. And I do so love apple pie.

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

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Why I Write

Almost all of us, at least at one time or another, have the desire to live forever.

It’s why we procreate, and make things. It’s why we strive to make a difference: we want to be remembered. It’s why we believe in an afterlife, and why we’re fascinated with spirits and ghosts, vampires and werewolves.

It’s also why many, if not most, writers write. We have the hope that our books will give us a measure of immortality.

Of course, achieving immortality by means of the written word isn’t a whole lot different than one’s chances of becoming rich by winning the lottery. Just count how many perennial bestselling authors there are versus the number of new authors published each year, and the number of authors who never reach bestseller status but continue to write books. We’re talking thimbles to boxcars here.

And that doesn’t count the number of bestselling authors who pass into oblivion once they die. Their names are legion.

The number of writers who achieve immortality is indeed tiny.

One has a better chance of achieving immortality by becoming a mass murderer than by becoming an author — NOT that I recommend one should do so. Just sayin’.

When it comes to the desire to live forever, I’m like everyone else: bring it on! Or at least let me live for six, eight centuries. There are so many things I want to explore and do, and one lifetime hasn’t been enough.

Writing is a relatively easy avenue whereby one can hope to achieve immortality. After all, books last a very long time. Paper books, that is. Not sure how long these ebooks will last. Software and formats, tend to become obsolete. Remember floppy discs, Beta and VHS tapes, cassettes?

Ebooks are in the same category as those acid-laden wood pulp magazines that are self-destructing because of the cheap paper they were printed on. As the pulp magazines crumble into dust, so too do media vehicles become useless junk. Something to think about.

Nevertheless, by means of stories, I can tell whoever will listen to me what I think about life, who I am as a person, what my dreams and hopes are (or were). And if my stories become popular enough, then they will make the transition to each new storage medium that comes along. After all, I can read Shakespeare and Euripides on my ereader.

My desire to live a very long life, if not forever, and to write lots of books crystalized in the wake of close encounters of the near death kind.

About a dozen years ago I came close to death due to misdiagnosed appendicitis and consequently a ruptured appendix. The doctor told me I was a lucky man. The rupture created quite a mess. Then a couple years later, I had a heart attack. The left anterior descending artery was blocked. Colloquially called “The Widowmaker” because of its high percentage of fatalities. Again, the doctor told me I was a lucky man.

Now I have been told I have kidney disease. For which there is no cure. The only treatment is to follow good health practices in an attempt to slow the progress.

Death is my friend. My mortality has been made very clear to me. It is why I write and why I have such a feeling of urgency about writing. If it weren’t for the Grim Reaper standing in the corner of my room, I’d probably get lazy and slack off.

Of course, we don’t live forever, at least in this life, and it is the only one I care about at the moment, and this life is short. Although I always keep in mind Seneca’s words, “Life is long enough if you know how to use it.” That last clause is of course the rub: we usually learn too late how to use it well. We squander the most precious and rare gift doing and pursuing what is ultimately not of much value.

Writing brings me great joy. It also helps me to become a better person. Through my characters I hone what is important in my own life and discard what is not.

Around 40 to 45 percent of us are kinesthetic/tactile learners. These folk learn by acting and playing and touching. Through my characters, I live many lives and face many dilemmas and learn many things about myself, because they are after all the people I have made in my image.

I know writing brings me great joy and that I do it mostly for the sake of writing, because I make darn little money at it. The pot of gold continues to elude me. Yet, maybe my heirs will hit on the right marketing strategy and my books will sell and I will achieve that immortality we all desire. After all, my books will be in copyright for 70 years after I pass on. That’s more or less another lifetime. That too is something to think about.

Life is long enough if we know how to use it. I may at last be getting the knack of it. We’ll see. I’ll keep you posted.

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

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#IndieApril

Today’s the last day of April. A third of the year is over. Wasn’t yesterday New Year’s? At least while time’s flying, I’m having fun! Hope you are too!

If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you know I’m a reader. I prefer reading to TV, movies, video games, boardgames, you name it. Reading takes you to a million different worlds without leaving the comfort of your own home. Reading’s my favorite way to travel. Reading also stimulates the imagination like nothing else. And that’s a good thing.

Earlier this month, on Twitter, someone started the hashtag #IndieApril. The goal was to get people to buy, read, and review books written by independent author/publishers.

Being an independent author/publisher and reader, I was excited to jump on the bandwagon. After all, reading is a good wagon to jump on.

I ended up buying 7 books. Here they are:

The Tainted Dollar by Chris Derrick

Hotel Obscure by Lisette Brodey

Voyager by Carl Rackman

The Monkey Idol by KD McNiven

A Brother’s Secret by Andy Graham

Connor’s Gambit by Z Gottlieb

Into Armageddon by Jeff DeMarco

As beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so is a good book in the eye of the reader. And just as there is a lot of beauty out there, there are a heck of a lot of good books that just don’t get the press.

The editors who work for publishers are mere mortals. They put their shoes on the same way you and I do. They are biased and opinionated individuals whose job is to make money for the publisher, the businessman, they work for.

The stories are legion of editors who passed on the eventual bestseller. The stories are legion of editors who thought book X was the next Gone With the Wind — and it didn’t even sell 10 copies.

Why is this? It’s because publishers aren’t interested in art. They’re interested in money. How many bucks will they make on Book X versus Book Y? This makes sense if we understand that publishing is a business. The publishing house’s sole purpose is to make money for the owners.

Businesses exist to make money. It’s why Jeff Bezos started Amazon — to make money. To get rich if possible. It’s why Random House exists — to make money for their German and British owners. Publishers only see books as dollar signs.

For the last 50 plus years I’ve read in writing magazines and now on the internet, that bestsellers keep publishers afloat. On virtually all of their other books they lose money. The likes of Patterson and Rowling and King, enable publishers to publish the likes of you and me — if we can get past the gatekeepers (editors). And there were other bestsellers who allowed the publishers to gamble on Patterson, Rowling, and King.

As much as I don’t like the monopolistic mindset of Amazon, I’m forced to say that it was the Kindle that changed publishing forever.

Suddenly, overnight, not a single writer needed an agent or a publisher. Writers were free at last. There were no more gatekeepers to prevent our voices from being heard.

Publishing had suddenly become a true democracy. Publishing became as easy as buttering a slice of toast.

Of course, people have this proclivity to make easy things difficult. And so now we see indies themselves setting up all manner of roadblocks to prevent the newbies from entering the ranks of the august.

I hear constantly that one has to have an editor, maybe several! I was told by one nobody author that if I didn’t have money to hire an editor, I should hold a garage sale to raise the money to hire one. What idiocy! As if I have enough stuff I don’t want to make even $10.

Here are more must haves. One has to have a professionally made book cover. That one has to pay a formatter for a professionally formatted book. And one has to pay for lots of marketing.

What’s going on is simple. In the first place, all those editors that publishers have let go in the last 30 years are seeking to feed off of the indie revolution. Quite honestly, indies don’t need professional editors. We are our own publishing house of our own books. We don’t need someone who doesn’t know us to tell us what our books should or shouldn’t be.

In the second place, indies themselves — to eliminate competition — set up barriers to new writers. Of course there are no barriers to publishing today, so these people play the traditional publishing mind game and make gullible newbies think they need all the above mentioned crap.

The indie publishing waters are filled with sharks and piranha — let the newbie beware. I say ignore those naysayers and shysters. Just write and publish your book. Then learn how to market it.

Every day I’m amazed at the good indie writers I discover. Writers who’s books languish at the 500,000 or one million rank in the paid Kindle Store. Writers who are usually better than the indie bestsellers — most of whom are of no better quality than the traditionally published crowd.

On this last day of #IndieApril, I encourage you to pick up a book or two written by an independent author/publisher. Here are 10 suggestions:

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

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#WolfPackAuthors

Cooperatives have been around for quite awhile. They began in England in 1844 in an attempt to allow small producers of quality goods to compete with the large factories that increasingly churned out low-quality goods in advance.

I’ve been involved with food cooperatives since the 1980s. Initially, it was the search for fresh and affordable spices and herbs that drew me to the local food co-op. From there, my interest in sustainable agriculture and organic production mushroomed.

Cooperatives formed to solve common problems by the combined action of the members. They also empowered the members through shared ownership and democratic control. Something very much missing even in today’s business world. Everyone is equal in a cooperative.

With the rise of the independent author/publisher movement (indies), co-ops have begun to form as authors seek to tackle the difficult aspects of publishing and marketing.

The #WolfPackAuthors is a loose cooperative of writers who hang out on Twitter. I’m very pleased to be a part of the group.

To provide mutual support and to take a more creative approach to marketing each other’s books is the group’s goal, rather than simply re-tweeting each other’s books.

One of those marketing options was to put together a short story anthology to showcase the work of the #WolfPackAuthors. The result is

Once Upon a WolfPack: A #WolfPackAuthors anthology

Seventeen writers. Seventeen stories and poems. The book is currently available on pre-order for $2.99 and will see publication on 19 May 2019.

And in the true spirit of cooperation, all profits will go to Lockwood Animal Rescue Center. The center is focused on protecting wolves and helping military veterans with rehabilitation and integration.

We feel Once Upon a WolfPack will not only introduce you to our writing, but the book will help wolves and vets survive in what is too often our harsh modern world.

We give and you give. And many, many people and wolves benefit.

Travel to distant and magical lands. For a time be a superhero, or a creature of the night. Be a private detective and solve a crime, right a wrong. In Once Upon a WolfPack, you’ll have 17 chances to travel and live a life different from your own.

To whet your appetite, here is an extract from my contribution to the collection. Enjoy!

Mrs Solberg’s Problem
A Justinia Wright Private Investigator Mystery
by CW Hawes

She’d made the appointment for ten in the morning. The oversized oxblood wingback made her look small, even though she was of average height and build for a woman.

Our potential client was practically dressed for a December day in Minnesota, which unfortunately didn’t do anything to improve her somewhat drab middle-aged appearance.

My sister, the ace Minneapolis private detective Justinia Wright, wasn’t interested in the case when I told her about it yesterday. But then she’s rarely interested in any case. She doesn’t like to work. She’d rather play the piano or paint. Unfortunately, those two activities don’t pay my paycheck or that of my wife, Bea, who is the office receptionist, as well as being Tina’s Minordomo. I being the Majordomo, as well as Tina’s assistant.

And since my sister doesn’t like to work, one of my duties is to prod and cajole her into doing so. Of course, I get a ton of grief for doing my job. But that goes with the territory.

Consequently, I went ahead and booked the appointment. I figured once Mrs Solberg was in the office, the odds of Tina taking the case would greatly improve.

The boss looked at our potential client. From where I was sitting at my desk, she was wringing the life out of her gloves.

“There’s no need to be nervous, Mrs Solberg. It is Missus, isn’t it?” Tina said.

“Yes. Yes, it is. I’m married.”

Her voice was actually quite pleasant. It had a bit of depth to it.

Tina leaned back in her chair and steepled her long fingers. “I take it you are having marriage problems.”

“Well, yes and no.”

A frown crossed Tina’s face. “Come now, Mrs Solberg. You either are or you aren’t. If your home was a citadel of marital bliss, you wouldn’t be here. So what is the nature of your marital woes?”

“There’s a woman at my husband’s office…”

Tina finished the sentence for her. “And he’s spending entirely too much time with her for your liking. She’s also younger than you. Probably much younger. And you want me to do something about it.”

“Uh, yes. Yes, that’s right. How did you know?”

“It’s my job to know things. So I do.”

“Oh. I see.”

Although by the look on her face, I wasn’t sure she saw at all.

Mrs Solberg paused a moment and then her face brightened. “You can help me?”

“I can. What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know. That’s the thing. I’ve been a good wife. I’ve seen to his, my husband’s, every need. I know that sounds old-fashioned, but I’m a traditional wife and I don’t think I need to apologize for that.”

Tina made a sound that could have been taken for concurrence, and Mrs Solberg went on. “I raised our children and was always there for them. And I’ve always been there for Dolph. That’s my husband’s name. Dolph. It’s Swedish and means Noble Wolf.”

“Interesting,” Tina said.

“I suppose so. Only now he might not be as honest as I thought. Anyway, I’ve always been there for him, and it’s just not fair that now we have some time—”

Tina interrupted. “The children are no longer at home?”

Mrs Solberg nodded. A tissue was dabbing at her eyes and nose. After a moment, she continued, “Now that we have time to do things together, he’s either too tired, or playing golf, or with his friends watching football, or out with this minx.”

Tina sat up and crossed her legs. “Does the minx have a name?”

“Lacey Nystrom.”

“Are they sleeping together?”

“Uh, no, I don’t think so. Dolph says she’s this poor young woman without much money and in a bad situation at home and he’s just being friendly. It’s nothing serious, he says. Just friends and I shouldn’t worry.”

“And you believe him?”

Mrs Solberg thought for a moment and then nodded her head. “Yes. I don’t think he’s had sex with her.”

“But you are feeling cheated. The kids are gone, you’ve paid your dues, and now you want to live a little.”

“Yes. That’s it. Can you fix this for me? Can you get rid of this minx? I’m probably being unfair, to call her a minx, but that is how I feel. She’s taking my husband from me and it’s not fair what she’s doing, or that he’s letting her.”

Tina nodded her head to show she understood Mrs Solberg’s feelings and leaned back in her chair. She eyed the humidor on her desk and then closed her eyes, steepled fingers touching her lips. After a quarter-minute passed, she opened her eyes and sat up.

“Yes, I can fix this for you. My fee for doing so is twenty-five thousand dollars.”

“What? You can’t be serious?”

“Oh, I very much am, Mrs Solberg.”

“But, but…”

“You think it’s a lot of money?”

Mrs Solberg nodded her head.

Tina continued, “I suppose it is. However, I happen to know you can probably afford it. You live over in Kenwood, which is more expensive than my neighborhood. Which as you know is second only to yours. I also know your husband is a vice-president at Borger, Inc. And makes a very decent salary.”

“How do you know this?”

“As I said earlier, it’s my job to know things. And I do. The decision is yours. However, I ask you, do you like feeling you are second fiddle in your husband’s affections? I’m assuming you love him and that’s why you’re here.”

“Yes. Yes, I do. We were good together when we were young.” She took in a deep breath and it came out a sigh. “But then along came the children and more responsibilities at work, and promotions, and, well, now I’m looking at fifty and Dolph is in his fifties and, well, I just want us to have a chance to live a little before we’re too old. I think we’re still good together.”

“I understand,” Tina said. “To get what you want, with my help, will cost you twenty-five thousand. It’s your happiness, Mrs Solberg. Not mine. What’s your decision?”

“You really think you can help me?”

“Yes.”

Our potential client stared at her purse. Perhaps somewhere in its depths there was an answer, and, after a significant amount of time had passed, she asked, “Is a check alright?”

I guess there was an answer lying there in the depths of her handbag.

“A check is fine, Mrs Solberg.” Tina turned to me. “Harry, a contract.”

I printed off a contract, filled in the blanks, and gave it to our client for her to sign. I’ll have to find out the brand of that purse. Could probably make a fortune with it. After she read and signed the contract, I made a copy for her.

“Tomorrow, I will send you instructions by email,” Tina said. “You must follow them to the letter. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

Mrs Solberg stood and handed a check to Tina, who stood and took it from her. The two women shook hands, and then I escorted our new client to the front door and out into the cold Minnesota winter.

On the way back to the office, Bea asked if Tina had taken the case.

“Yep. Have no idea why. She didn’t even try to charge her some ridiculous fee. It’s an odd case, though, and maybe that’s why. Something of a challenge. Something out of the ordinary. I’ll tell you about it later.”

I went on into the Inner Sanctum and sat at my desk. Tina had lit a cigar and poured herself a glass of madeira. She took a sip of wine and then puffed on her cigar, before speaking.

“Since you wanted this case so badly, here are your instructions.”

I gave her a look.

“What? You didn’t think all you were going to do was badger me, did you?”

I sighed. “I suppose not.”

“Good. Get your notebook and pen.”

Continued in Once Upon a WolfPack

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

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The Reading Experience

Every reading experience begins in the mind of the writer and is completed in the mind of the reader.

That means every time I finish writing a book, I’m only half done. No communication, no entertainment has taken place until someone reads what I wrote.

Only when there is a reader has the act of writing a novel been completed. And for the reading experience to be a positive one, the reader has to be able to tap into the world I created and been able to take something away from it that he or she can make part of his or her ongoing experience in this journey we call life.

Lee Child, in his 2012 introduction to a new printing of the first Jack Reacher novel, Killing Floor, says essentially the same thing.

Child wrote in that introduction this gem:

To me, entertainment was a transaction. You do it, they watch it, then it exists. Like a Zen question: If you put on a show, and nobody comes, have you in fact put on a show at all?

The reader is vital to any fiction writing experience. Not awards. Not accolades. Not bestseller status. Those things are nothing.

Bestseller status can be, and often is, gamed. (For example, Joanna Penn wrote a blog post on how you can ad stake your way to bestseller status.)

Accolades can be false. “That was a great book, Chris!” Said not because Jed actually meant it, but because it’s the social thing to do. Or maybe he’s hoping I’ll write him a 5-star review.

Awards basically mean nothing except to those who put value on what other people think. And often the award is based on who gets the most votes. So the winner is simply the one who got his or her fans to cast the most votes. Pure high school.

All that really matters are readers. Because readers read books. It is the reader that counts — and only the reader.

I am a reader. I have been ever since I can remember. Books are my life. Wear the old coat and buy the new book.

What do I look for in a book or short story? First and foremost — character. As Lee Child noted in the above mentioned introduction:

Character is king. There are probably fewer tha 6 books every century remembered specifically for their plots. People remember characters. Same with television. Who remembers the Lone Ranger? Everybody. Who remembers any actual Lone Ranger story lines? Nobody.

But great characters are only a part of the puzzle. There are certain themes I gravitate towards and others I shy away from.

In my life, I’ve experienced a significant amount of injustice. Unfairness. So for me, justice and fairness are very important themes. I want to see an unfair world made fair. I want the characters in the books I read, the good guys, to right wrongs. To see to it that the bullies and cheaters don’t win.

As a reader, so am I as a writer. My private detective’s name reflects it all: Justinia Wright. Justinia comes from the Latin for justice, and Wright to connote that she makes things right.

Pierce Mostyn fights an uncaring, and to us unfair, universe and its minions. He does his best to prevent bad things from happening to good people.

The other theme that is important for me is loyalty. In my world, when I was a child, I often felt like Julius Caesar, crying out “Et tu Brute?”. And in some ways that feeling of betrayal at the hands of those I trusted continued into adulthood. So loyalty and betrayal are themes which gain my attention as a reader.

And loyalty and betrayal also factor in my writing. For all their bickering, Tina and Harry Wright depend on each other. They are loyal to each other, through thick and thin.

Bill Arthur, in The Rocheport Saga, as he seeks to build a new world out of the ashes of the apocalypse, is constantly faced with issues of loyalty and betrayal.

To the extent a writer can tap into what is important to me, that writer becomes memorable.

For the most part, I think most readers don’t give this idea of themes conscious thought. They read books and like some and not others. The books they like they often aren’t even sure why they like them. Most likely, though, they like those books because they tap into things that matter to the reader.

As writers, we have to give this considerable thought if we want a ready audience. What is our message? The more we can identify it and communicate it, the more likely we are to find our fans. And not have to rely on accident or luck.

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

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