A Despirate Plea For Attention

Greetings, Voracious Readers!

Some people have been asking me how the book's been doing lately, and I gotta say, pretty durned good for a tome that's had little to no formal promotion.

It certainly helps when some sweet readers actually take the time to provide some feedback.  For a writer that doesn't have the ability to hit the road on a Grateful Dead-style book tour, reviews and comments are indispensable.  Here are a few things people have said about the novel thus far:

Not Your Average "Cookie Cutter" Fantasy Novel

"Are you tired of reading the same old cookie cutter epic fantasy novels that are chalk full of those mundane 'fantasy ingredients'? Do you want to bite into a whole new fantasy tasty treat? Then this book is worth the read.

Mr. Pretty has created a very in depth world filled with a rich history and dozens of complex characters who never fall in to the basic 'good or evil' category. Pretty is not afraid to tell this tale from the POV of some very unlikable, even immoral characters. As the plot progresses new truths will be revealed that will challenge your impressions and assumptions about their ethics. Your opinion of these characters will constantly change as Pretty takes them on a journey of a lifetime.

A note of warning that this book is not for those of you who like the typically happy 'fantasy ending'...it is dark, gritty, and emotional. It is a risky move which I found pays off and serves the story as a whole."    

I'm glad this reviewer mentions the moral ambiguity of the characters since that was a major motivation to write the book in the first place.  I really don't believe that people are arbitrarily good or evil, I just think that self-motivation often has a major impact on the perception of human behavior.  And to take this concept even further, (and to borrow a trope from Dungeons & Dragons) a person's "alignment" is often dictated by how people regard this motivation.

For example, Adolph Hitler, justifiably regarded as history's greatest monster, was initially adored by the majority of his people.  Hell, he was even voted Time magazine's "Man of the Year" in 1938.  Initially, he was perceived as a strong leader who cast off his country's economic burdens, thumbed his nose at foreign pressures, and brought pride and prosperity back to his nation.  In fact, even after Germany became an aggressor state and started to openly persecute of some of it's most hallowed citizens, the lion's share of people still didn't regard the Nazis as completely evil.  And that's because people still believed in the motivation or were too frightened to speak out against the motivation.

I'm also quite thankful for the reviewer's honest thoughts about the ending.  Indeed, if people don't feel a tremendous sense of needless waste and loss by the end of the book, I've failed.  After all, if I'm going to make the bold claim that Brother's Keeper is influenced by Greek and Shakespearan tragedy, then I damned well better deliver the goods.  Despite all of the costly and painful personal casualties, I hope that most people realize that the world depicted in my novel is still a better place in the end.              

Oh, and I also dig the phrase "fantasy tasty treat".  Makes me think of an ice cream cone with sprinkles on top.

Here's another review:

Leaves You Wanting More 

"The novel, 'Brother's Keeper', is very much a character driven novel. The author, David Pretty, manages to adopt a yin yang approach when creating his cast. The good are not saintly, the villains are not demonic. They all feel very real and very flawed, just like you and I. 

Although 'Brother's Keeper' is by definition, a fantasy novel, I found it to be very well grounded. There was nothing jarring or out of place that would remove you from the moment. Everything was very believable. The settings seemed fertile, warm and beautiful or windswept, cold and harsh by turn. 

The author takes no pity on any of his characters whether it is by placing them in heat of battle on the open seas or in the midst of family strife. I found that much like George R.R. Martin's 'Game of Thrones', I wanted to keep reading, almost looking for pages at the end of the book because I was left wondering what happens to these characters next. I am very much looking forward to the next instalment of 'The Death Quest Saga'."

Words can't express how proud I am that both of these reviews mentioned the depth of characterization.  If anything, I was really hoping that readers would get attached to my Rogues Gallery of characters and that they "come alive" in some capacity.

I also hope that I've forged a world that's "believable" to a reader.  I didn't want to bury people under an avalanche of boring minutia, so instead I tried to drop little references and tidbits here and there just to give the setting enough flavor to seem "real".  Likely Volume II will be more grounded in the book's mise-en-scène, but since I had a lot of story to tell in Brother's Keeper, I didn't want the reader to slog through anything that wasn't related to the overall plot.

And although Brother's Keeper is fairly self-contained, there is a plot thread that I deliberately left dangling  to build Volume II's foundation around.  Although I took great pains to complete the premise set up in the first Volume, hopefully I've also left enough unanswered questions to give readers some incentive to check out the next installment.  In the end I hope that people are left hanging on the edge of "evolution" just enough to make them curious as to what comes next.

And then there's this one:

Excellent First Novel

"After reading the first novel from David Pretty I got way more than I originally expected. It is full of detailed description of characters and situations that actually make you feel as if you were right there with them. The story line just seems to keep you reading as you feel like you know the characters and have a thriving need to know what happens to them next. 

Also, the way the novel is written explains in detail how the characters are feeling at certain moments and the reader just feels like they are in that character's shoes. One gets empathetic towards the characters almost instantly upon beginning to read. 

I personally recommend this read and look forward to more from this author. Keep up the great work David and thanks for this awesome tale!"

There are certain things that writers always love to hear from readers:

1. "You exceeded my expectations."
2. "I believed what happened in the book."
3. "The story was propulsive and it kept me reading."

Having said that, I suspect that formal literary circles would probably lambaste me for employing an omniscient point of view in the novel.  But I wouldn't have done it any other way since the characters were so diverse and interesting that I just couldn't resist putting the reader right into their heads.  I'm sure some people will consider these transitions jarring, but I really wanted people to get emotionally invested in the characters and experience all of their highs and lows.

And then finally, here's one from Stephen Patrick Clare, the publishers of Arts East here in Halifax:

"Extremely well-written, with a solid storyline and strong narrative arc - insightful, informative, entertaining and enlightening - a book that is certainly worthy of greater national attention."

This was great because Stephen isn't what I'd describe as big "genre" fan.  I never intended to write some sort of insular, nerdy fantasy book loaded with all kinds of clunky lore and convoluted references.  I just wanted to write a contemporary story about family conflict, dangerous secrets, personal tragedy and blind ambition.   The fantasy elements are about as incidental as the ghost in Hamlet, the Three Witches in MacBeth and the Sphinx and Oracle in Oedipus Rex.    

It's also very encouraging to hear someone say that the book is worthy of national attention.  Indeed Brother's Keeper holds very little appeal to regional, Maritime publishers with their single-minded devotion to "slice of life" tales, Christmas stories, kid's books and ghost anthologies.  If my novel is ever going to flourish, it has to be picked up by a major publisher and then diligently marketed and delivered to its target audience.

In addition to getting some encouraging comments from readers, I'm also doing whatever I can personally to drive up the book's profile.

For example, Brother's Keeper is now available through my local library system. And just last week I designed a cinema-style trailer for the book with the help if iMovie, some public domain images from the interwebs and the stirring music of Carl Orff.    

   

So, things are pretty good at the moment.  I'm still hoping that my book gets picked up by a major publisher and then transformed into a popular edition.  The promotion and distribution channels that would open up for me would be staggering.  This would also give me some definitive incentive to proclaim myself a real writer as opposed to "call center bait", which I'm likely to become in 2012 unless a more suitable offer comes down the pike. 

The dream's still alive folks.  Keep your fingers crossed for me...

EPIC:  My next goal: become a member of this exclusive club

FAIL:  I don't know if it's a comment on the state of our society but Walter The Farting Dog is far from a publishing failure.

http://www.bookfail.com/

Okay, So Now What?

All Hail, Diligent Readers (and Writers!)

Well, after the first draft of my book was completed I endeavored to get it published through the traditional route.  In order to do that, I first had to find out if there was anyone out there even willing to look at it.   

I felt that local publishing houses were immediately right out.  After all, my book was a tragic revisionist modern historic fantasy, not some slice-o'-life Atlantic Canadian yarn.  These people wanted Nights Below Station Street and I wanted to give them Tigana crossed with MacBeth.  

So, I set my sights on the big American fantasy publishers.  I diligently picked up a copy of the Writer's Market, a publication that lists thousands of prospective publishers and agents.  Each entry gives you the name of the periodical/publishing house/agency, the contact names, what they're looking for, the submission guidelines as well as their terms and conditions.  Unfortunately most of them also maintain that they:

• Don't accept unsolicited manucripts
• 85 to 95% of what they publish is agented fiction
• Or, my own personal favorite: agented submissions only

Nevertheless, I did find one or two places that were willing to look at unsolicited manuscripts.  So, I cobbled together a query and fired it off.

What's a query, you ask?  It's the method by which writers prostrate themselves before potential publishers in the vain hope that the GOD OF DISTRIBUTION will actually read your proposal and grant you some semblance of a future.  Typically there are three components to a query: the letter, the synopsis and a few sample chapters.

The query letter is your book's Player-esque sales pitch.  You'll include information about the book, what makes you uniquely qualified to tell the story, and how it fits into the literary market.  As such, here's an example of a good query letter:

Dear Ms. Conclusion,

Thank you for your continued encouragement of my short stories, including my most recent submission, "The Sad Goat".  At your suggestion, I've enclosed a new story, "Philandering," for your review.

Since last submitting to the River Tam Review, I have had stories accepted by The Hudson Hawk Review and the Skull & Bones Review (both forthcoming), stories published in the Berkeley Breathed Fiction Review and ByMine Magazine, and I recently secured representation for my first novel.  My fiction has also appeared in The Salamander, The Flannel Review, Black Panther Review and a Room With A (Re)-View.    


I am originally from the Sheboygan area, and returned here last fall after completing the Creative Writing Program at the Correspondence College of Barstow.  I now teach writing at the Sheboygan School of Applied Wankery.


Thank you for considering "Philandering".  


Sincerely,


Lisa Awesomeface

Okay, here's an example of a bad query letter (my comments are in brackets):


Dear River Tam Review,


         Enclosed in this envelope are some of my writings.  Thirty-one years old. Poor. Pist (I think he means "Pissed"). Ready to unleash some malcontented words upon paper and society.  Not having a degree in english (Obviously) leaves me at a disadvantage.  Writing was once just a hobby.  Now I feel that it could be more.  My dream is to someday have something, anything published (Dream on, pal).  Whether it be a short story, prose or novel (Um, redundant much?). This is what I will work for. Working long taxing hours.  Late hours as a waiter adds to the white noise that I call my meager existence (Wha..?).  Okay, maybe it's not that bad.  Actually every night is like a Saturday night (Um, where are we going here?). Women, alcohol and fun (!).  Words come with ease but I feel that they are unnoticed (Gee, I wonder why?). Prose is the great escape.  Shorts (Does he mean short stories?) are, well like a silent fart of a mongoloid (!!!). All writing is enjoyable to me. My true passion is the working of a novel.  Last week I embarked upon Blowjobs, Whiskey, and Steak (TMI!!!  TMI!!!). This is my arena.  Believe me when I say that I will send you the work (Is this a threat or a promise?). You will not be able to ignore the way the words will speak to you (Creepy!). Safe to say that you have not heard the last of me (Creepier!).  Yes I am in love with the word; it has never let me down (Except, say, in this awful query letter).  With this in mind I am ready for failure (Well, that's a good thing).  I believe that a man or a woman can only be measured by their reaction to failure.  So any words of encouragement, or even if you feel the need to rip me apart (More likely). It would be greatly appreciated.  I would even settle for a list of other publishers in your area that might offer some advice.  My expectations are low, by my writing is different (That's one way of putting it).  Thank you for your time.  Hope to hear from you in the near future (Not bloody likely).  

Michael Mutant                      

Although I goofed around with the references, both of these letters are completely real.  Here's what the editor said in response to the last letter:

Our magazine is a 20-year old award-winning literary magazine and his style would never fit in or be accepted.  The writer did not read our guidelines.  This is, by far, the most offensive and profane letter I have ever received.  If the goal was to capture my attention and make me want to read the manuscript, the writer failed miserably.  The query disgusted me.  Period.  

Okay, so what have we learned here, kiddies?  Make sure your query letter is brief, to the point, inventories your accomplishments, gives pertinent details about your current submission, avoids gratuitous use of the word "mongoloid" and also opts not to mention the last time you got a hummer.

Well, after I'd removed all of these references from my own query letter I also noticed the conspicuous absence of one other key element: publishing experience.  Frankly, in this day and age, with so many books to choose from (not to mention all the other entertainment-related distractions) publishers are quite keen on  known quantities and a certain amount of bankability.  I can't say that I can slight them for this, but then again, who's gonna roll the die on an emerging writer in an effort to uncover that new, original literary X-Factor?

Typically included with the query letter is a plot synopsis, which either indicates that you actually finished the damned thing or at least you know how to finish it.  Plus it also shows if you have a head for crafting a full-bodied story with a beginning, middle and end.  Please note: unless you're Steven King your finale probably shouldn't include prepubescent group sex or a Pier 6 donnybrook with a giant space spider.  I'm just sayin' is all...

So, after I'd crafted a pretty decent, fellatio-free query letter, typed up a synopsis and Über-proofed my first three inclusive chapters, I sent this plucky little document blindly off.  During this entire process I felt like I was trying to double into a game of darts with my helmet's blast shield down.

Sending a query letter to a prospective publisher is sure to generate feelings of despondency and helplessness  for the budding writer.  Your book could be the modern day equivalent of The Great Gatsby but unless there's a cappuccino-fueled agent pushing the publisher to the floor and trying to stick your manuscript up his nose, it's much more likely your book will end up in that most dreadful of purgatories: THE SLUSH PILE.

And what is that you may ask?  Well, the traditional description (a pile of dirty, half-melted snow) isn't too far off the mark.  It's the name publishers give to the massive mound of unsolicited manuscripts lying around the office, a stack so high that every year a bakers-dozen interns around the world are killed trying to scale their respective peaks.

Liberating your manuscript from slush pile oblivion is one of the hardest things for a new writer to do.  Which is traditionally why you need an agent to constantly be screaming  "HERE!  Read it!  Read it!   Don't make me go all Clockwork Orange on your ass!"  Truth is, there's a real double-edged sword at work here.  You can't get an agent without first being published and you can't get published without having an agent!  See how annoying this is?

I decided to cover both bases for awhile by sending my queries out in pairs: one to publishers willing to accept unsolicited manuscripts and another one to potential agents.  I could only do this one set at a time since publishers tend to get upset when confronted with evidence that they're not the only game in town.

And then, you wait.  Often for months at a time as your poor, sad proposal slowly works it way to the top of that Olympian-sized slush pile.  The responses that you get back are often non-committal, blandly inoffensive and uselessly abstract.  Here an example of one of mine:


Dear Author (Why didn't she just address it 'Dear Carbon-Based Lifeform'?):


Thank you for your recent inquiry.  I'm sorry not to respond personally, but the volume of submissions that we receive unfortunately makes it impossible.  I always enjoy reviewing the wealth of material that crosses my desk, but we do receive hundreds of submissions every week. 


Your proposal has been considered, but I regret I am unable to offer you representation.  Thank you, however, for thinking of (insert name of short-sighted literary agency here), and best of luck in the submission of your work elsewhere.  


Yours truly,


Marianne Foad 
Dictated but not read

So, as you can well imagine, once you've been on the receiving end of a half dozen of these little missives you begin to equate the submission process to palming a red-hot stove burner.  Frustrated by THE MAN and THE MAN'S SYSTEM of doing things, I once again put my manuscript away in a hermetically sealed vault until new avenues presented themselves.

This happened a few years later when a friend of mine turned me on to Cory Doctorow.  He's a Canadian writer who's done some brave and groundbreaking stuff with digital media, copyright laws and open access to his work.  In 2003 Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom (and much of his subsequent work) was released electronically under the Creative Commons banner, which allows people to read and circulate his work for free as long as they don't alter it in any way or try and make a profit from it.  It garnered the writer a tremendous amount of attention, including a standard paperback publishing deal.

So, I thinks myself: "Hey, self, why don't you make a portion of the book available for people to read for free?  It might garner some hype and help you attract a publisher!"

Conveniently, another buddy of mine soon told me about a website called Storiesville.  Storiesville allowed writers to post their flash fiction, short stories and serialized works on a blog-like website for readers of all persuasions to peruse and review.  In 2008 I began to post one chapter of my book every three or four days until the first third of the book was available.  Soon I'd earned myself a pretty ardent little following.

The dozen or so people that read it and left a comment were very supportive and complementary.  After this confidence booster, Storiesville inspired me to set up a "pay to read" website.  I'd make the first third of the book available for free and then charge fans a small stipend to unlock a new chapter or the rest of the novel in one fell swoop.

This was a boffo idea except for one thing: I had no clue how to go about doing it.  I made a half-assed effort to cobble a website together about a year ago but the web host (HostPapa) and their affiliate site builder (SohoLaunch) proved to be w-a-a-a-a-a-y too creatively inhibiting.  The templates they provided were frustratingly restrictive and generic.  If I was going to create a internet billboard to promote my book I didn't want it to look like the website of a small town dental office.

Then disaster struck in September of 2009 when Storiesville vanished off the face of the interwebs.  The site's administrator soon revealed that some douchestore with way too much time on his hands had released a virulent attack upon its web host resulting in a complete loss of all data.  Faced with the monumental effort of having to get the site back up and running, he decided to pack it in for good.

And with it, all the great comments people had left for my book were also lost forever.  The only information I had about my supporters were a bunch of vague usernames like Pastor Reg, Rage Age, Chicago Jake, Moxjosie, and R.E. Potter.  I had no way to contact them.  I wish that I'd had the foresight to save their feedback in a Word document but I never thought in a million years that the site would ever be so utterly annihilated by hackers.

I was at a whole new low.  It seemed as if I was destined to keep my book all to myself like some malformed mutant brother locked up in the spare room and kept alive by a diet of fish-heads.

Then in late 2010 I did Stephen Patrick Clare's C.K.D.U.'s radio show "The Book Club" while promoting Open Heart Forgery.  One of the other guest was an interesting local actor named John Alexander Baker, who'd just self-published a book called God Yes, Hell No.    

Now, although the book's subject matter wasn't exactly my cuppa joe (and there's no chance that I'd ever be able to plaster my own mug all over the cover of my book), I could see the potential in self-publication.  At least I'd be able to steer people to it if they really wanted to read it.  And although John's formatting, editing and organization was a bit cockeyed, I was still impressed by the book's overall production values and reasoned that my anal-retentive nature would ensure that I could produce a pretty decent-looking product.

Plus, John's an older guy and (I suspect ) not the most technologically savvy dude on the planet.  So, my theory was, if he could pull it off then so could I.

So, I set to work researching Kindle and CreateSpace publication routes.  My goal: to make my book available to anyone who wanted to read it by hook or by crook.

But, as you might expect, things are never quite as easy as you'd hope...         

EPIC  Here's an inspirational news report on a tremendous independent publishing success story.  Damn, I wish I'd written a book about 'tween paranormal romance instead of deathwish-obsessed berserker pirates.  Which begs the question: are only teenage girls reading en mass anymore?    



FAIL  More query letter FAIL-ures.

http://querytracker.net/forum/index.php?board=5.0

Kill Your Darlings

Aloha, Audacious Alphabetorical Art-o-philes!    

When William Faulkner wrote “You must kill your darlings” he wasn't referring to what your neighbors are thinking when your pack of Pomeranians start the act of collective barkening at 2 am in the morning.  He was referring to the nigh-heartless attitude towards editing that all good writers must learn to embrace whilst writing in flagrente as well as post prose coitus.

After my patron saint for the arts moved on to another division in the company I soon lost my dedicated weekly writing day.  In spite of this jarring leg sweep I'd seen enough progress on the book during this time to ensure that this was only the briefest of setbacks.  My momentum now was juggernaut-esque and I dedicated every free moment to completing the first draft.

When this was accomplished I wasn't quite sure what to do with my Frankenstinian creation.  I read back through it once and made some superficial corrections and improvement.  I showed it to a couple of  people.  And then...nothing.

It went to fallow for a long time until I discovered the aforementioned Stephen King memoir On Writing.  After voraciously devouring that book, I discovered to my giddy thrill that I was already practicing quite a bit of what King suggested neophyte writers do.  I also uncovered some truly fantastic tips that made the process of Darling-euthanasia fairly painless.     

Here's a list of his biggest Do's and Don't and my own personal take on whether not I was already a practitioner, if I adopted his advice or chose to avoid the suggestion like the plague.  Ready?  Okay, here we go!

1. Write What You Know and Tell The Truth  This is some solid advice right here.  I followed it in the sense that I was already quite familiar with Greek and Shakespearean tragedy as well as Medieval history.  Granted,  I didn't know a lot about the aristocracy of Italian city-states in the Middle Ages, but I researched what I needed and since my book is historic fantasy, I fudged the rest.  I was also pretty comfortable (as most of us would be) writing about familial dynamics.  King goes on to make an encouraging point: just because you've spent your entire life as a chartered accountant doesn't mean that you shouldn't write a sci-fi novel.  Just consider the possibility of writing about chartered accountancy...IN SPACE!!!  After all, most readers are looking for "echoes of their own lives and experiences" while reading a book.  I thinks this goes to great lengths to explain why I tend to fly though contemporary novels and often drag ass when reading the average fantasy book.  It's usually because so many works of fantasy don't really bother to include anything relevant to the life a modern-day person. 
2. Adjectives and adverbs suck.  Amen, brotha!  Writing something like:  "Adele had petulant eyebrows" not only sounds gut-bustingly awful it's also shamelessly lazy.  If Adele is supposed to be petulant, show her being petulant in behavior not on her forehead.  
3. Beware of Crappy Metaphors and Similes  I was initially quite guilty of this and I think a lot of budding writers suffer through an unfortunate bout of this as well.  In order to prove that they're "lee-jit-uh-mit" writers, a lot of folks will do the literary equivalent of jumping up and down, waving semaphore flags and screaming: "Hey!  Lookit me!  I'm a writer!  I've got style!  Look at how clever I am!"  Well, I hate to break it to you, Beulah May, but when you write stuff like "Bob fought like a jackal" (or worse: "Bob fought like a deranged jackal") you actually look like a schmuck.  Go sit down...James Joyce hates you now.          
4. Speed Doesn't Kill, Bad Dialogue Does  This could be the hardest thing for inexperienced writers to do properly and it's often virtually impossible to improve.  It's also, as it should be, a literary deal-breaker. Your either gonna be able to write good dialogue right now or you can't.  The main reason for crappy dialogue is often the writer's own social inexperience and ineptitude.  If you haven't been around a lot of different people in your lifetime and were weaned on network television, your characters are likely gonna sound like a bunch of maladjusted shut-ins.  Or, even worse, they'll all sound the same.  King makes the observation that even a descriptive genius like H.P.Lovecraft was wretched with dialogue.  As soon as he stopped cataloging the thirty-third tentacle on the unspeakable horror approaching the narrator and that character had to actually verbalize something, fuggedaboutit.  Speech by rural characters or characters of race were particularly wince-inducing.  Frankly, Lovecraft makes George Lucas look like Aaron Sorkin.  Now, although I grew up a somewhat shy and sheltered kid, my self-induced tenure in university residence and then immersion in two massive call centers soon allowed me to develop a good ear for realistic, naturally-flowing dialogue.  Even when I decided to make my characters sound contemporary to appeal to modern-day readers, I still had to ensure that they  actually sounded like real human beings communicating naturally with one another.  In fact, if I'd stuck with a "Middle English" mode of speech it would have been easier to pull of since most people wouldn't have had a clue what they were saying to one another.  But that kinda defeats the purpose, doesn't it?  One bit of good news: if you follow King's advice to "write a lot and read a lot", eventually your dialogue-writing capabilities should improve. 
5. Be Conscious of Showy Literary Gimmicks  This sort of dovetails with Point # 3, but in a way it's worse because it usually eats up a ton of unnecessary space.  Once again, you usually see this coming from a rookie novelist who's trying too hard to impress people by trotting out the literary lug nuts in his or her stylistic toolbox.  Even the Mighty King has been guilty of this one as anyone who's ever read Carrie can testify.  King's first published novel is chock-a-block with showy newspaper clippings and diary entries.  Frankly, the time spent on such gimmicky things would have been w-a-a-a-a-a-y better spent on developing the main character in the book's "here and now".  Mercifully I'd manged to steer completely clear of anything like this in my own book.  The closest I came was in Chapter Forty when I had the Rogues speak only in dialogue to one another to see if readers could discern who was saying what to whom.  It was a simple, Hemmingway-like experiment to see if I'd done my job as a writer to make each character's voice sound unique and identifiable.  Best part about it: it actually decreased the book's page count, not increased it.
6. Symbolism ISN'T One of Those Gimmicks  In fact, it's an awesome tool to help re-enforce your theme, increase repeat reader appeal and give your audience some unconscious tasty bits for their brains to gnaw on.  In my book I took my dedication to symbolism quite...um...literally.  The number three features prominently in the book and it ties into the Triple Sword sigil and the 'Strength, Wisdom, Courage' mantra that no less then three major powers are all vying for.  I could go on but I've already said too much...
7. Two Drafts and a Polish Should Do...Not!  I actually went a wee bit further.  Actually, I went a lot further.  I read through it, made any glaringly obvious corrections, followed the procedure laid out in Step # 12, made corrections and revisions based on their feedback, and then did something totally nuts.  I re-read every passage of the book, out loud, four times in quick succession.  The neighbors probably thought I'd gone loopy, but by the time I was done, any wonky descriptions, tinny bits of dialogue and gratuitous adverbage had been exorcised.  Basically, I wanted to eliminate any passages that might cause me to trip up if I ever had the privilege of reading the book in public.  Remember: Your Darlings.   Kill 'em with impunity.  
8. Finish First Draft Before Waving It Around  In retrospect, the dude at the Nova Scotia Writer's Federation actually gave me some solid advice here.  Make sure the first draft of your book is completed to your personal satisfaction before letting anyone else paw all over it.  This will ensure that, at the very least, it's free from undue influence and the oft-corrupting powers of committee decision.  No matter what you say about it initially at least it's still the product of one clarion voice. 
9. Give It A Six-Week Burial  After that first draft is done, put it away for at least six weeks.  Go work on something else.  Clear your head.  Forget about THE BEAST in the desk drawer.  King maintains that time and distance will allow you to tackle the book with fresh eyes and make the Darling-related executions far less painful.  Lord know I followed this advice but I think I did six years instead of six weeks. Yeah, don't do that, BTW.
10. Editorial Book-Keeping  When you sit down to do your first edit, make sure you're equipped with a pen and separate pad of paper.  Record page number, line reference and the desired or suggested correction.  Personally, I didn't do this for my own first edit, I just made changes right in the manuscript. Having said that, one of my trusted volunteer readers/guinea pigs adopted this fastidious strategy all by herself and, bless her heart, it turned out to be ludicrously helpful.
11. "Plot Hole!  'Roit Ahead!"  Be on the lookout for plot holes so gapingly big you can drive a Mack Truck through 'em.  Someone once said that "if there's a gun that's described over the mantelpiece in Chapter One is has to be fired by the end of the book".  'Nuff said.
12. "*PSSST!*  Wanna See My Captain's Log?  Show your beloved tome to two or three trusted friends. These people should represent your ideal reader but also stand in as fair and constructive critics.  Hell, I even subjected my three test subjects to a friggin' survey!  King suggests that this process be fairly democratic and I mostly concur with him.  Now, I don't believe that your readers should dictate major elements of your story, but if you hear the same concerns over and over again you seriously need to look at changes.  For example: if one reader loved the way a character was miraculously redeemed at the end of the book and another hated it, consider it a draw.  However, if everyone surveyed thought that it was completely improbable, you may want to do a few revisions.  One major caveat: if in doubt, make sure that your novel doesn't become the equivalent of a "choose-your-own-adventure" book.  Too many good movies are homogenized and subsequently ruined this way.  If you decide to alter your original ending just make it's not because someone said: "Well I just wanted it to be happier" or "I wanted the hero to end up with the girl".  Frankly, most people are unhealthily enamored with convention.  If they want something that white-bread, encourage them to watch reruns of  7'th Heaven.
13. "Get Along, Little Plotty, Get along!"  Have your test readers really pay attention to the book's pacing.  Again, this is very important if your book is loosely plotted since the danger of meandering is considerably higher.  As I've previously detailed, before sitting down to write I'd always jot down a one-sentence description of what I wanted to see happen in the next chapter in order to drive the story onward.  I think this tactic kept me pretty well on course based on the feedback I've received thus far.
14. Second Draft Is The First Draft Minus 10%  Again, this is more appropriate for authors who write without plotting.  This is not to say that I didn't mercilessly cut, hack, chop, jettison, raze and demolish Kaiju-style anything that failed to serve the plot.  Remember, don't be afraid to push your Darlings down the steps and then kick them in the sternum a few times to make sure you've properly killed them.
15. Flashbacks are Boring  King follows this up with the following truism: what will happen is always more important then what has happened.  If you don't believe me, just have a look at those crappy Star Wars prequels.  As King puts it ever so delicately: everyone has a history, unfortunately, most of it isn't very interesting.  In my book, there were a few times in which I had to resort to a super-brief flashback for the sake of story economy but it didn't happen very often.  I'm a big proponent of the old writing adage:  show, don't tell.        

I'm tellin' ya, fellow fledgling writers...this is some Grade-A solid advice right here.  Seek out On Writing.  Read it.  Embrace it.  Become one with it.         

You'll thanks me later.

EPIC  The invaluable tome in question:

       
HILARIOUSLY EPIC:  Comedian Patton Oswalt illustrates what will happen is always more important then what has happened in the only way he can.  WARNING: not suitable to work.  Like, at all.      



FAIL  Bad dialogue is everywhere.  Do your best not to contribute to it's proliferation!

http://www.ew.com/ew/gallery/0,,20174698_20399906,00.html

Saviour

And a Fine Mahok To You, Hallowed Reader!

Before I start prattling on about the editing of my book, I wanted to discuss something that, technically, should have been covered in my previous entry about the challenges that writers face.  It's a biggie, so I thought it deserved it's own separate mention.  It's a big, hairy bugbear that stands directly in your path like a bully and pushes you down on your well-intentioned ass.

That challenge is TIME.

For most creative types who work a full time job, time is most assuredly not on your side.  There's the time you allocate getting ready for work, there the time you burn getting to work, there's the time you spend actually at work, and then there's the time you waste getting back home.  Add in various other errands, chores, and responsibilities and it's little wonder why aspiring writers don't just say f#@% it, fire up the ole' X-Box and then spaz out in a virtual world where they actually feel like they're accomplishing something.

And perish forbid if you've got kids to take care of.  Maybe one day when I'm independently wealthy as a self-employed writer I'll consider replication but until then I'm gonna avoid parenthood like the movie Zookeeper.   

I say that not to be miserable, but because it's the way it should be.  It's been my experience that people who hesitate to have kids (and actually ponder the ramifications of parenthood) are the one who actually  should be having kids.  As I've stated clearly right here, as far as I'm concerned, as soon as you start spurting out mini-me's you're livin' for someone else from there on in.  IMHO, your feeble, bulls#!^ self-concern should be as dead as acid wash jeans.

Now, mercifully, around the time I began the book in earnest I also became convinced that T.V. was a vast, time-sucking wasteland.  Like Steven King says, if you've got the time to watch crap like Sarah Palin's Alaska then you've got time to write. 

Indeed both of us are in complete agreement when he records in his memoir On Writing that in order to be a good scribe you have to do two things: read a lot and write a lot.

Although my idiot box was collecting a lot of dust at the time, I wasn't really reading as much as I should have. This is a character flaw in me that I struggle with to this day.  I either blow through a book in a few days (usually anything contemporary and written by Irvine Welsh, Chuck Palahniuk or Douglas Coupland) or it takes forever (witness my recent experience with Pillars of the Earth) or I just abandon the damned thing because I'm bored with it.

Okay, let's all swear this right now, Determined Readers: "I hereby do solemnly pledge that I shall emancipate myself from the Plasma/LCD teat and read at least four books a year.  We'll DYB, DYB, DYB, DYB and we'll DOB DOB, DOB.  Hey, nonny, nonny, etc, etc."

After all, according to Unca Steve: "A day without a book is like a day without sunshine", and let me tell ya, folks, us poor Vitamin-D/Spring-deprived slobs on the East Coast here really know what it's like to be livin' without sunshine lately.  I swear to God I'm developing Rickets.        

Although I was slack with the reading, I tried to write whenever I could.  Between calls at work.  When I was left alone at a coffee shop.  After being abandoned by my wife in a mall and turning up at the Lost n' Found looking dazed and frightened.  If I was left home alone for a time.  Any moment of peace I had I'd endeavor to compose a spot o' prose.

Trouble was, these moments were fleeting.  The opportunities weren't consistent enough and huge stretches of semi-abandonment threatened to occur.  As a result, the process began to drag.  Things got worse after the whole Sears debacle.  In September 2000 I started a new full-time job with a major American office supply vendor.  I don't want to give away their name but it rhymes with an ancient southern Italian city close to Mount Vesuvius.  Called Naples.

The fixed nature of the nine-to-five, Monday-to-Friday, forty-three hour a week job dove-tailed very nicely with my wife's schedule, but now I didn't have any randomly scheduled middle-of-the-week days off when I could work on my book.  As my life became more regimented by this new job my opportunities to spend time at home working on the book began to fall by the wayside.  Despair and desperation began to set in and I secretly feared that it would never be finished.    

Before I started this new gig I spoke to people working there to see if they could give me the inside scoop on what managers were good to work for and which ones were Coo-Coo for Cocoa Puffs.  I'd used this same tactic in university to find out which Intro Philosophy profs would force you to mathematically chart arguments and which ones would play audio tapes of Monty Python skits.  

My future co-workers/moles put in a good word for me and said in no uncertain terms that the team I wanted to be on was Linda Shaughnessy's.  As soon as met her I instantly knew why.  Linda was possessed of a warm disposition, a creative soul and a genuine desire to keep her people as happy as possible in such a challenging environment.

As such, a year or so later when we were in the middle of my performance review we somehow got on the topic of art.  I may have mentioned my Dad's paintings at the time and I was impressed to learn that she also liked to paint.  Then, of course, came the inevitable question:

"So, do you have any artistic talent yourself?" she quizzed.

After I got over the initial shock of her not asking: 'So, what do you paint?' I spilled the beans about my book.  Right off the bat, Linda was inordinately sympathetic to my plight.  A few days later, after I brought my MONSTER IN A BOX in to show a few people, she took me into her office and told me:

'Look, if I get you some extra time every week, do you think you can finish it?' she asked.

'Yes!', I shouted, throwing her for a loop.  'You're darned tootin' I can!'

I could scarcely conceive that this gracious lady was going to bat for me over what a lesser manager would likely make fun of.  I was even more shell-shocked next week when she took me aside and said:

'Look, David, I managed to get your shift adjusted.  From here on in you'll only work Monday to Thursday.  You'll have Fridays off to work on your book.'

I was so happy I think I cartwheeled out of her office.  Knowing what she'd likely gone through to procure this privilege for me, I vowed then and there not to squander my rare opportunity.

That Friday I used my newly borrowed time to attack the nigh-dormant manuscript.  The consistent effort of that day and many that followed really helped the book's narrative flow take off.

I can say in all confidence that my book would never have been completed without this woman's charitable intervention and for that I will be eternally grateful.  Needless to say, when it came time to design the paperback's Dedication Page, I made sure Linda's name was included:

For Linda Shaughnessy for understanding the importance of creative needs over business needs.

EPIC  To get a jump on our minimum "Four Books A Year" pledge, here are four contemporary books that I positively flew through:



FAIL  What the eff is Rosario Awesome doing in this cinematic turd?!?

The Not-So-Easy Part

Hello, Persevering Purveyors of Prose!

I finished a rough draft of the first book of  "Brother's Keeper" when I was still at Sears back in the late Nineties.  When I came to this natural stop, I picked up the manuscript, straightened the pages and then  stared at it for while.  What to do now?

"You should bring it to the Nova Scotia Writer's Federation!" someone at work enthused.  "I'm sure someone there would be willing to help out an emerging writer!"

I gamely took my little embryonic tome down to their offices, which used to be in a high rise on Barrington Street in Halifax (I understand that they're now in a well-appointed suite in the Seaport Market area next to Pier 21).  I remember taking the elevator up to their floor, going inside the office and speaking to a put-upon secretary.

"Hi!   I've written the first third of a book and I was wondering if I someone might be available to to go over it with me and possibly give me some feedback and advice."

She gave me a once-over as if I was about to start acting out parts of the book with sock puppets.

"Yeah, just take a seat for a moment and I'll see if someone's available to speak to you," she replied absently.

About twenty minutes later I met with a gentlemen who sat me down at an expansive desk and then took a seat in the opposite chair.  Now, at the time I was still just a skinny, shy, nervous kid and I really didn't have a lot of what might be called "presence".  Or "confidence".  Or "self-esteem".  So, when this guy smiled at me it seemed totally disingenuous as if he was barely concealing the thought: 'Well, let's hear what this twerp has to say!  It could be hysterical!'

"So, what can I help you with?" he asked, looking vaguely like the Cheshire Cat.

"I...um...I wrote the first third of this book and I was wondering if someone could take a look at it and maybe give me some feedback or advice?"

"You said it's not finished?" he interjected.

"Well, yes.  I've got about two-hundred pages done..."

"Finish it first," he said abruptly.

"Um, okay," I stammered. "But I was kinda hoping that someone could read it and tell me if I'm on the right path and give me some kind of assurance that I'm not wasting my time here.  Maybe offer a bit of guidance..."

"No one is going to read it until it's finished," he barked, knitting his hands behind his head and leaning back in his chair.  "Finish it and bring it back when you're done."

"But, you see, that's just the point: I don't know if I ever will finish it," I railed.

"You will," replied the literary sensei.  "If you're motivated enough to write two-hundred pages, then you're  motivated enough to finish it."

Looking back, this was actually some pretty good (if not completely stone-cold) advice.

"Oh...okay," I managed, wriggling in my chair like a suspect trapped in an interrogation room with a busted security camera and only Vic Mackey for company.

"When I've got the book done, then can someone look at it?"

"Yes," replied the adviser.  "We can have one of our in-house published authors take a look at it.  Their rates are actually quite fair: $100.00 for the first two-hundred pages and then two dollar for each additional page beyond that."

I distinctly remember almost choking on my gum at that point.  The really weird thing is that I wasn't chewing any gum at the time.

"Oh, wow, really?  Yes, yes that's quite...um quite fair," I stammered.  I stood up and began to gather up my things like a madwoman in an attic.

For the first time, the Federation Commander finally started to betray a hint of concern that he'd said something wrong.

"Let me assure you that their services are invaluable.  Our stable of published writers will go over your manuscript with a fine tooth comb.  They'll root out spelling, grammatical, continuity and formatting errors.  They'll critique your characterizations, dialogue and plot.  It's quite extensive..."

"Yes,"  I said, leaning over the desk to repossess my ream-shaped baby, which was now sitting  uncomfortably close to the tin-plated Junta leader seated across from me.  "I'm sure it is.  Thank you...thank you for your time."

As I fled the office I could hear him calling after me:

"Good luck and happy writing!"

I clutched my book to my chest as I descended back down to ground level in the elevator.  Just when my fellow passengers in the lift were about to pat me down for nitroglycerin pills, the door opened and I hurried outside.

I couldn't believe it.  This "Federation" wasn't about fostering new local literary talent at all!  All it seemed to exist for was to act as a cottage industry for already-published authors.

So, after ten plus years, I never did go back to the Writers Federation of Nova Scotia.  Maybe it's changed.  Maybe it's better now.  I don't know, but my brief experience there really left a sour taste in my mouth. 

I went back home that day feeling quite depressed.

But not three days later I started work on Book II.  

EPIC   My Dad sends me emails periodically from the Writer's Alliance of Newfoundland.  Now these guys really seem to know the meaning of support and encouragement:   

http://wanl.ca/

FAIL   Sci-Fi author A.C. Crispin exposes the bloodsuckers in the industry:

http://www.sfwa.org/2005/01/excuse-me-how-much-did-it-cost-you/

The Easy Part

And a Kind Greeting To You, Incessant Reader!

Last time I talked about the initial spark that inspired me to write my first novel.  Little did I know that my initial approach to tackling the book put me in direct opposition with the greatest contemporary author of horror, suspense, fantasy and sci-fi....none other then Stephen King.

I wouldn't know it until years later, but Stephen would have chastised me for my initial approach.  Before I began to write in earnest, I sat down and meticulously plotted out every single chapter of my book right down to the very end.

Years later, after I'd finished the first draft of my book I read the following passage in King's amazing memoir On Writing:


"I won't try and convince you that I've never plotted any more then I'd try to convince you that I've never told a lie, but I do both as infrequently as possible.  I distrust plot for two reasons: first, because our lives are largely plotless...and second, because I believe plotting and the spontaneity of real creation aren't possible."   

Well, this might be all well and good when King produces a situational book like The Shining or Misery (two genre masterpieces, BTW) but as a voracious reader of his, it was also easy for me to detect when this anti-plotting stance failed him, resulting in the literary equivalent of being painted into a corner in the end.  Anyone who's ever read the novel IT likely knows what I'm talking about.  Here's an actual transcript of my thoughts in reaction to that book's finale: 

"Wow, I'm really digging this book.  I love the characters, I love the flashbacks to the 50's with them as kids.  That friggin' clown is totally creeping me out.  Oh, wait...it's not a creepy clown after all it's actually some kind of a...a giant...wow...really?  Um, okay.  Okay, sure, we'll go with that.  I guess.  But, oh yikes, now the kids are all lost underground and starting to freak out, I wonder what King's gonna do to get them out of...*Whoa!*  Really?  She's doing that? Really?!  With all the boys?  Yikes!  Man, I wish there were girls that accommodating to boys without self-esteem back when I was hittin' puberty!  Cripes!"    
  
Actually, in spite of IT's lame ending,  I actually totally agree with him.  If I was writing some slice-o'-life novel, like my own Atlantic Canadian version of James Joyce's Ulysses, I certainly would have taken the "plotless" tact.  But I'm sure that even Mr. King would have to admit that a certain amount of mercurial navigation would be required for what amounts to a fantasy love letter to classic works of tragedy such as Oedipus Rex or MacBeth.  After all, since so many of those classic plays feel like an inexorable march towards certain doom I really wanted my hapless readers screaming at the page "ABORT!  ABORT!  ICEBERG 'ROIT AHEAD!"  

So, before I sat down to write any new segment, I would start with a one-line synopsis such as:  "Justinian Gets Sacked", "Tyranis Seeks Fafnir", "Valarius Confronts Couris" or "Tyrian En Route To Darkfrost".  As such, I tackled each new chapter like the equivalent of your Language Teacher giving you a milquetoast topic like "What I Did Last Summer" except that instead of detailing my family's boring trip to Rainbow Valley, I could make all kinds of crazy shit up!

Now, that's not to say that I kept my characters confined within the restrictive rubber walls of these one-line playpens..oh, no.  They were more then free to run riot within the chapter, often spawning more one-line sequels just from their actions alone.

This is best typified by the so-called villains of the piece, the Rogue Pirates.  In the realm of Brother's Keeper, this notorious organization is born when an angry young war veteran named Tyranis gathers a pack of unemployed ruffians together to attack his adoptive home Norrvik while it sits virtually defenseless.  He organizes and leads the sneak attack for two reasons: first...to seek revenge for the loss of his father who died at the hands of Northerners and second...to raid the town's prodigious coffers.

Amidst all the treachery, betrayal, loss of life and virtual destruction of the town, Tyranis has no qualms about robbing everything of value and exiting stage left.  Then something weird happens: in an action of either mercy or guilt, Tyranis spares the women and children of Norrvik!  Not exactly the actions of a vicious, bloodthirsty pirate, eh?

Years later we come to realize that despite how nasty the initial raid might have been, Tyranis really isn't that evil.  He just came up with what he thought was a good (though selfish) idea and followed through on it.  Problem is, he now finds himself at the helm of a truly nasty bunch of professional criminals.

To make sure readers could get a feel for this, I made the decision early on to allocate almost as much face time to the antagonists as I did to the protagonists.  These two concurrent story lines alternate back and forth until both factions meet at the end for the inevitable war of attrition.

I was amazed by how readily these characters came to life: how they began to breathe, speak and do things for themselves.  Valarius goes from milksop to master of his own destiny to someone slightly unhinged.  Tyrian, like many ne'er-do-well kids who think they know everything, begins to realize that he's not so bad-ass after all.  Syrach, their father, spirals down from nominal leader to a mental train wreck after he looses track of his exponential pack of lies.  Their mother, Cassandra, initially seen as a dizzy stereotype, rises to the occasion when her husband falters.

I also had to immediately make the call as to how these characters would speak to one another.  The producers of the recent movie Thor must have had the same thoughts I had on the matter: no-one on earth will possibly relate to characters pontificating in Olde English medieval-speak.  As such, the characters in my novel speak quite informally but nowhere close to the conversational nadir that was on display in such dreck as The Adventures of Sinbad T.V. show from the late Nineties.  Sin-BAD, indeed.

In fact, I took great pains to give all of my characters their own unique voices.  Older characters such as Syrach, Fafnir and Urland speak in reserved tones when compared to younger characters and Valarius and Tyrian as kids.  Here are a few examples:

Tyranis (To Fafnir): “Obey me, old man, or I’ll split you open and smear your carcass across this deck!”

Tyrian (shaking a textbook in his brother's face): “Val, how many times do I hafta tell you these things?  You’re playing right into Syrach’s hands.  I know you better than that; you’ve got less interest in this than I do!”

Calvin (noting Fafnir's prominent absence): “He said he had pressing matters to attend to, but if you ask me, he has more brains than all of us put together.”

Valarius: (addressing a hostile heckler in enemy territory) “I am heir to the House of Aligheri, you ill-bred dog!  Now take me to Couris before I imprint this ring’s crest between your beady eyes!"

Fafnir (to Tyranis) "“I’m sick and tired of watching children steal from the bodies of unarmed merchants.  I hate this coward’s enterprise we’ve fallen into and I don’t want any part of it anymore.”

Gideon (chastising Syrach for lamenting only his own son's battlefield injuries) "Every man that died out there was someone’s son.”

Cassandra (to a recovering Valarius):  "Now that you’re getting better, you and I are going to have a little talk.  I’ve been nice to you so far because I’ve been worried but now that I know you’re going to be alright, I’m thinking about turning you over my knee and giving you a good beating!”

Now some may argue that the dialogue is a bit too informal, but my reasoning is that everything you're reading here is a translation of some language.  Since folks have a tendency to speak very informally with one another in their native tongues (with colloquialisms thrown in like the conversational equivalent of "Mrs. Dash"), this is eventually what comes though in my "interpretation".

One thing that Stephen King and I really do see eye-to-eye on is description.  After reading Sir. Walter Scott's Ivanhoe I always promised myself that I'd never subject a reader to the sort of anal-retentive color commentary that Scott was notorious for:

"His dress was a tunic of forest green, furred at the throat and cuffs with what was called minever - a kind of fur inferior in quality to ermine, and formed, it is believed, of the skin of the grey squirrel."

I won't bore you with the rest, but just suffice to say that Scott book-ends this with endless, gratuitous details about this character's temperament, stature, body type, facial features, hair, as well as every aspect of his wardrobe right down to his golden-clasped sandals.  I mean, c'mon, dude!  Give our flabby imaginations a chance to fill in the blanks!

As Stephen King wisely observes: "I find wardrobe inventory particularly irritating; if I want to read descriptions of clothes I can always get a J. Crew catalog."

I prefer just a few quick impressionistic brush strokes which affords the reader just enough clay to mould the image in their own, unique mind's eye:

"Calvin, on the other hand, was in his forty-third year and his prime was slipping behind him.  His once thick blonde mane was thinning badly, leaving his fuzzy crown gleaming in the light.  His lean, ferret-like frame was beginning to paunch, showing mostly in his face and mid-section.  Too many years of carousing, driven by coffers that knew no bottom made Calvin besotted before his time."   

And yes, then there's the ending.  Given my inspirations, the finale of the book was never in question.  Nevertheless, it was very difficult for me to pull the trigger since I knew it would likely alienate some readers who were vainly hoping for some sort of network dramedy eleventh hour miracle.  But the novel's original ending has always been what it is and, frankly, if I'd altered it in any way it just wouldn't have been true to the story, the characters or myself.   It would have been like Old Yeller, minus the inevitable double-tap. 

When the first draft of Brother's Keeper was completed I set it aside and let it go to fallow for a bit.  It's during this time that I read Stephen King's memoir about his life's work.  Despite being at loggerheads with him RE: meticulous plotting, I was actually kinda relieved to find out that I was already doing a lot of things he was suggesting.  

But I still had a lot of work to do. 

Next time out: the editing process can sometime be cruel, but after subjecting myself to it's cold auspices, I now consider it to be cathartic and liberating.  Stay tuned, kiddies: lots more tips and tricks I learned from Stephen King (and my own nominal experience) in the next entry!

EPIC:  MUST-KEEP-FLOGGING-BOOK...!
       













FAIL: I'm really, really hoping these are fake but, sadly, they probably aren't...

http://dailyblowhole.wordpress.com/2009/11/19/worst-romance-novel-quotes-ever/

MONDO FAIL  Ah, Zen Gesner, where are you now, you blow-dried pretty boy?  Cripes, he's about as Arabic- looking as Steve Buscemi...

Genesis

Greetings and Salutations, Loyal Literary Loiterers!

"The warship Midgard plowed through the frigid, churning sea towards her quarry: the hamlet of Norrvik.  The distant village lay nestled around a narrow, mist-shrouded harbor of barren stone.  Jagged, ice-covered cliffs shouldered the small town, sheltering its inhabitants from the killing winds.  Sparse vegetation dotted the cruel terrain, while small wind-stunted trees stood twisted towards the sky.  Despite the howling wind and blinding sleet, one could still determine the conspicuous absence of Norrvik’s proud fleet."

So begins the first paragraph of my first, full-length novel: a paragraph that's been in existence for about half of my lifetime.  Frankly, if I was still twenty years old, that really wouldn't be very impressive, but considering that I'm now ten years beyond the point of euthanasia in the world of Logan's Run, that's a long friggin' time. 

When I wrote this first passage back in High School I could scarcely conceive of where it would ultimately lead me.  If I could hop into a time machine and go back to tell Young Dave that these words (and a host of others) would one-day see physical incarnation in the form of a paperback book, the reaction wouldn't be pretty.  In fact, I'm convinced that my extra-scrawny self with the port-hole-sized spectacles would have told Future Dave in no uncertain terms to stick my wild claims "where Paddy stuck the dough-ball".

And yet, here we are.  What was the germ of inspiration that resulted in me writing a five-hundred page novel?  What was it like to craft all those imaginary people, the world they inhabit, and their dialogue?  What was it like to guide this Rogues Gallery of characters through a plot that only ended when it ended?  After this initial paragraph was scribbled down on loose leaf, why did it take so damned long to finish it?

Cripes, those are a lot of questions.  Go 'way, willya?  Can't you see that I'm tryin' to watch Terry Jones' Medieval Lives in peace here? 

Okay, okay...I'll talk!  Just stop starin' at me like that, it's friggin' creepy.

For the purpose of ensuring a reasonable amount of brevity, let's just start from the beginning.  Where did the idea for the book come from in the first place?  Now, I'm not talking about the book's influences, since I've already documented that as nauseum right here.  No, I want to explain where the germ of the idea sprang from and how it seemed natural to spin it into a full-length novel.

Brother's Keeper is the first volume in a potential nine book, three-volume, arc.  The first (totally self-contained) volume introduces readers to the characters of Valarius and Tyrian, two brothers who are born into a life of inherited privilege as sons of the High Governor of Galadria, a fictional nation that resembles Medieval Italy.  As sweet as this "jackpot-by-birth" seems to be at face value, the two brothers are restless, bored and also harbor serious trepidations about the Machiavellian dealings that their father must engage in to retain his power.

This leads the elder son Valarius to turn his back on his inheritance in lieu of pursuing a life of unnecessary and potentially deadly hardship as a warrior.  As a wannabe pretender to the throne and official Black Sheep of the family, Tyrian goes one step further by falling in with a pack of hardened, notorious pirates.

Okay, so where the hell did that all come from?  I don't have any siblings, my Dad isn't a wealthy governor and I'm about as Italian as John Lithgow.

Well, as I've documented in previous posts (handy-dandy link provided right here) as a kid I was a huge fan of fantasy stories and role-playing games in particular.  The great thing about hobbies like this is that it practically forces your imagination to percolate.  Not only do you start making up characters, you start thinking about who these characters are, where they came from and what their motivations are.

Also, as an only child, I've always unconsciously wanted a sibling.  In a way it's kind of a shame that my parents had me and were then forced to declare: "Well, there you go, total perfection on our first try!  Not bad!  No sense having another one since it's just gonna end up feeling inferior  in comparison..."










What?

Regardless of whatever my parent's reasoning was for not breeding again ("Eeeeeeewww."), a part of me has always wondered what it would be like to have a sister or brother.  As if my folks sensed this, somehow, I was very privileged as a kid to have my younger cousin Jason live with us for awhile. Although there's no specific reference to this in the book, that priceless experience certainly helped me to reproduce the sort of unique sibling rivalry and banter that Valarius and Tyrian often exhibit.

By the way, any writer that tries to tell you that their characters aren't a reflection of themselves is either lying or embarrassed by what their creations reveal.  Even if it isn't a conscious decision, I really believe that our opinions, experiences and dispositions just naturally bleed into our creations through a process of passive osmosis.  As I told someone in an email recently, personal strife usually translates into passion and passion typically equates good art.          

So, as much as I try to pass Tyrian and Valarius off as two separate and fictional entities, the real truth is that both of them are actually, to a certain extent, me.  At first Valarius is shy, socially awkward and retiring and Tyrian hides his lack of self-worth with brash, bravado and self-fulfilling failure.  Despite these flaws, both of them have strong passions and unwavering convictions to pursue their own unique ways in the world.  As their wild surroundings and uncontrollable circumstances begin to have an effect on them, the two brothers experience a transitional arc in their personalities that I believe all of us must endure.

Although my Dad could never be perceived as vastly wealthy, he was very successful doing his own rebellious thing as a visual artist.  So much so that everyone I spoke to as a kid would ask me: "Sooooo, do you paint or draw as well?" as if they were obsessed with proving their hypothesis about creative genetic inheritance.  Yes, I dabbled with both those things in the past, but it was almost a disappointment to people when I told them that I liked to write instead.

So I suppose a compelling case could be made that when Valarius and Tyrian turn their backs on expectations just for the sake of doing something stupid, this is actually a metaphor for my desire to pursue something creative, impractical, and outside of my artistic pedigree.



I know!  Deep, huh?

And this brings me to how I was able to write this book to completion.  By the time I'd mapped out the back-story of these two disparate siblings, I was staring at the framework of a pretty elaborate little yarn.  Something that incorporated tidbits of my own unique experience set filtered through the framework of the fantasy novels and Greek/Shakespearean tragedies I was ravenously devouring at the time.

But, ultimately I wrote it because it was the kind of book that I wanted someone else to write so I  could  read it!  I didn't think that such an animal existed: a fantasy novel that spoke to the universal human experience.  In fact, if I had a dime for every fantasy novel I've started to read and then abandoned just because it had nothing going on thematically or any modern relevance...well, let's see...I'd have about four or five dimes...      

Now, I don't want to completely spell out all the themes of the novel, what fun would that be?  People are more then free to enjoy the book's many pitch battles, family dramas and historic details on a completely superficial level and go no further.  That's fine by me.  But the really diligent reader who likes to prospect for hidden meanings and subtext will have a veritable field day with each re-visitation.

In my next entry I'll go deeper into the nuts and bolts of writing of the book.  I'll try and talk about how I managed to eke out the time, how I plotted the thing, and how the characters magically came alive and often stubbornly refused to do what I told them to do.  I'll also talk about how navigating through a full-length novel improves your skills as a writer and how the initially painful process of self-editing can be totally liberating.

Until then, Happy Reading, folks!  .

EPIC (If only due to my Dad's amazing artwork):




EPIC VIEWING:  I'm an easy mark for this series, which features Monty Python alum Terry Jones.  Terry's a devout medieval historian who has a blast exploding myths about the Middle Ages while consistently bringing the funny:




FAIL:  What I didn't want the cover to look like...

http://www.goodshowsir.co.uk/

David Pretty, Author

Good day to you, Kind Sirrahs!

Okay, so I've written this book.

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Big, fat, hairy deal.  Who hasn't written a book?  I'VE written a book, fer Chrissakes!" 

Yeah, but when I say I wrote a book, I mean I really wrote that sucker.  With a capitol "W"...like, with  "THE END" and everything.

So, what inspired me to start writing this epic project back in the Pleistocene Era (I.E. High School)?  What carried me through to the very end when so many people start to write novels only to give up part way through in frustration?  Pull up a chair and I'll tell ya...

In between all the pulpy disposable stuff that kids in middle school are forced to digest (like Flight into Danger, for example), I clearly remember the impactful short stories of William Sydney Porter, better know as O.Henry.  First off, as a kid I thought it was kinda cool that a famous author had named himself after a chocolate bar (Okay, so I wasn't the brightest bulb in the socket, alright?).  Secondly, Henry's twist endings were often unpredictable, organic and often blindsided the reader as effectively as a pedestrian being smoked in the crosswalk by an RV without brakes.

It's also pretty obvious to me that M.Night Shyamalan must have read his works as a kid too, what with the initialed moniker and penchant for popping up and blurting "WHATTA TWIST!"  Ten points to any reader that recognized that little Robot Chicken shout-out, by the by.
     
In Grade Seven or Eight we covered Romeo & Juliet, which completely fascinated me.  The wellspring of quotable sayings, the magical language, uncompromisingly tragic resolution and universal commentaries on human nature were all mind-blowing  to me.  It was like nothing I'd encountered before in my life (up to that impossibly short span of time).  The fact that Shakespeare wrote this hundreds of years ago and it was still just as relevant today as was when it was first scribed certainly taught me about the immortality of artists. 

I could never have publicly confessed my love for Shakespeare at the time for fear of being blacklisted.  Er, even more blacklisted I should say.  Some of the knuckle-draggers in the class had taken to calling it Fag-eo and Fag-iet and made it clear that anyone who liked this was clearly a freak.  It's memories like this that make me wish I could go back with just a fragment of the confidence and conviction I posses now.  I'd soon tell these organ donors to shove their small-minded, homophobic opinions right where Paddy stuck the doughball.

Before I go on, I'd just like to make it clear that I have no idea what that last phrase means.  I just remember sometimes as a kid hearing my Mom say "Jesus Christ, I felt like telling that friggin' annoying telemarketer to stick it where Paddy stuck the doughball".  If it's dirty or something, it's not my fault.  I'm just the product of my environment.  Send the angry emails to my mom, she'll tell you what to do with them...

Anyhoo, a year later we covered two ancient Greek tragedies by Sophocles: Antigone and Oedipus Rex.  Both were immaculately plotted, labyrinthine little morality plays that spoke volumes about fate, free will, familial loyalty, civil disobedience, tragic irony, hubris, and the dangers of blind ambition (pun not intended).  I considered these to be mind-blowing works of art and although I think they were given short shift by our teachers (not to mention a small minority of attention deficit disorder morons in our class), it still made a major impact on me.

Around the same time Shakespeare made a re-appearance in the form of MacBeth.  Part of me wishes this had been the first exposure to Shakespeare for my class since it's so gory and violent I still refer to it as McDeath.  Frankly, I maintain that a creative instructor could teach any of these works to kids because, at it's core, these plays are still based upon universal, immutable and relevant observations of human behavior.  Well, of course kids are gonna tune out if you try and force them to read it aloud in class or watch some crusty-looking filmed stage play without any discussion, illustration, context or modern-day parallels.

I maintain that the things that Shakespeare and Sophocles were writing about are certainly just as compelling as the average episode of Gray's Anatomy.  Wow, if anything might cause these great writers to do backflips in their respective graves, that was it...

Around the same time I began to read fantasy novels.  I started at the top with J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit and promptly graduated to his Lord of the Rings trilogy.  Despite Tolkien's propensity to document the walking tours of his characters in excruciating detail, I still loved the scope of his imagination, his attention to detail and the thematic subtext running just underneath the surface.  I loved how Tolkien was clearly lamenting about how industrialization was eroding his beloved pastoral way of life and how the horrors of global war instantly turned aggressors into something less than human.

As I tackled a few more imaginative works, however, I began to realize that not every fantasy novel was created equal.  In fact, after a while it started to feel like the literary equivalent of the law of diminishing returns.  Each new book seemed like a plate of warmed-up Tolkien leftovers.  

Worse still, I thought many of these works were of the “quick flip and dispose” variety.  Although many writers are gifted in creating worlds of imagination, they often fail to invest in solid stories, compelling characters and thematic relevance.

So I started my book as a response to this deficit.  I made a conscious effort to avoid the trappings of most fantasy fiction, which is the writer’s tendency to wallow in the minutia of their own world to the detriment of all else.  By combining my love of Greek and Shakespearian tragedy, historic detail and mythic archetypes, I tried to craft a novel populated with contemporary characters and driven by a pretty intricate plot.  Although readers can be perfectly content just following the story to it's conclusion, they're also free to prospect for a vein of universal themes that address the human experience.

The story itself centers around two young brothers, Valarius and Tyrian. When their tutor makes the mistake of lecturing about a distant and mysterious land called Heldmark, the two young men experience an awakening that neither of them can account for.  Spurned on by years of rumor, lies and concealment, the brothers venture north on disparate paths to glean the truth about their origins.  Their journey leads them across the realm to where secrets are revealed, loyalties are strained, and their convictions are tested.  Soon the two are forced to decide if their quest for knowledge is worth courting betrayal and death.

The setting for the story is evocative of a fantasy equivalent of our own world.  This was done to keep a sharp focus on the story, the interaction of the characters and also give readers something to relate to on a unconscious level.   

So, basically, I wrote a book that I would want to read myself.

At first, I tried going the traditional publishing route by getting a copy of the Writer's Market and doing some submissions.  I promptly began to run into a classic "chicken and the egg" scenario: you can't get published without an agent and you'd be hard-pressed to get an agent without first being published.

Plus, I'm a sensitive soul and could only cope with two or three rejection letters.  It's hard to believe it now, but J.K. Rowling's first Harry Potter book was rejected about a dozen times before the CEO of a small publishing house in London decided to take a chance on it at the insistence of his eight-year-old daughter.

The wonderful thing about technology today is that creative and talented people don't have to get beaten up and discouraged by traditional routes anymore.  Right now, we live in a day and age where the Arctic Monkeys can get a record deal by giving away their music at concerts and film-makers like Fede Alvarez can parlay his brilliant youTube sensation Panic Attack! into a full-blown career in Hollywood.  

So, today, Sunday the 6'th of March in the year 2011, my first novel became available to the world as an e-book.  Basically, if you've got a a Kindle, PC, Mac, BlackBerry, iPad/iPhone/iTouch or Android, you can read my book! How trippy is that?!

Now, I've done some research, and to attract a traditional publisher I just need to get a mere ten-thousand people to buy it.  And, hey, let's face it, ten-thousand people is just a drop in the bucket when you consider that close to seven billion people share this rock with me as it hurdles through space.  Surely I can get .000001% of the population of the planet interested in what I legitimately believe to be a decent little yarn?         

Live to dream, folks.

PRETTY FRIGGIN' EPIC:  Well, here's a link to my baby...

INSPIRATION FOR THE AFOREMENTIONED HUMBLE EPIC:

EPIC FOR ENTIRELY DIFFERENT REASONS, BUT NO LESS EPIC:

Here's the brilliant short film from Fede Alvarez that snagged him a six-figure development deal with Sam Raimi's production house... 

FAIL:  For shame, publishers, for shame...

http://www.examiner.com/book-in-national/30-famous-authors-whose-works-were-rejected-repeatedly-and-sometimes-rudely-by-publishers