Confessions of a Starving Mystery Writer

Merry Christmas! 

Blogger has emerged from there Beta test. I'm not sure how this will effect my blog. During beta, Blogger ate a couple of my templates - So, I'm a little apprehensive how the new Blogger will work. The new features are described in a PC Magazine article, Blogger Leaves Beta . If my blog disappears, you"ll know why.

Hope 

The New Colossus by Emma Lararus (On a plaque at the base of the Statue of Liberty) Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame. "Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Great Pacific War Cover 

It amazes me the power and influence of fiction - the novel. Hector Bywater's 1925 novel The Great Pacific War predicted the sneak attack by Japan that would commence a war between the US and Japan. It also accurately predicted many details of the war that would occur. Though flawed in some of the details, it was immediately translated into Japanese and reportly had a significant influence on the man who would become the supreme commander of Japanese forces in the Pacific and planner of the attack on Pearl Harbor, Fleet Admiral Isoruku Yamamoto. An excellent account of the details is reported in an article at www.amercianheritage.com . It is interesting in a time when truth is becoming hard to find, fiction is becoming more truthful than reported news, memoirs, and media that purports veracity.

Norman Mailer's new novel "The Castle in the Forest," includes a list of 126 authors and titles that enriched the book. Michael Crichton's new novel, "Next," contains a seven-page bibliography listing 36 books that Crichton read while researching the book, along with citations for 12 articles published in newspapers or other publications and 12 Internet sources. As reported in the International Herald Tribune article " Literature: Do novels really need bibliographies ?", this seems to be the trend. In todays litigious society, is this really necessary? It seems fiction will likely be more true then memoirs, go figure...

Robin Williams, wearing a shirt that says "I love New York " in Arabic. Robin Williams' plan... "I see a lot of people yelling for peace but I have not heard of a plan for Peace. So, here's one plan." "The US will apologize to the world for our "interference" in their affairs, Past & present. You know, Hitler, Mussolini, Stalin, Tojo, Noriega, Milosevic, Hussein, and the rest of those "good ole boys", we will never "interfere" again. "We will withdraw our troops from all over the world, starting with Germany , South Korea , the Middle East, and the Philippines. They don't want us there. We would station troops at our borders. No one allowed sneaking through holes in the fence." "All illegal aliens have 90 days to get their affairs together and leave, we'll give them a free trip home. After 90 days the remainder will be gathered up and deported immediately, regardless of whom or where they are

Iraq study Group 

I've come full circle...or is it just a circle jerk? Blogger beta ate my last last blog teplate so I've return from which I came. I'll be working on a new template but I'm trying to write and submit. So if anyone is getting vertigo from my incessant format changes - sorry.

It was reported yesterday, Dan Brown dodged a big bullet yesterday - do-wop-do-wop. The US Supreme Court declined to take up and review a federal judge and a federal appeals court panel's dismissal of a lawsuit alleging illegal use of another author's book as a templet for Brown's Da Vinci Code as reported in a Christian Science Monitor article . There are many things I could say, over 60 millions copies sold, created a genre that didn't exist...yada, yada. I think he still has to fight the same battle in Brittan. The trials and tribulations of a bestselling author - I'm jealous.

All politics aside, 3,125 Americans have died in Iraq and Afghanistan. Many, many more have been wounded physically and psychologically. I pray for those who serve, their families, and those have served throughout our tortured history. I wish to honor all of our fallen soldiers. They have given the supreme sacrifice for freedoms we hold dear. Though I am a veteran, I never served during hostilities. For those who have in the past or do, I salute and honor you. The following portion of John Donne's poem was an epigraph for Ernest Hemingway's For Whom the Bell Tolls . I hope it is fitting and appropriate. No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it

Confessions of a Starving Mystery Writer 

As Popeye said, "That's all I can stand, I can't standz no more!" I give up. Spam has infiltrated my posts like locusts. This forced me to abandon the template that I really liked; the K1 Black. This current template is temporary and I apologize for its Spartan nature. Sorry for the changes but I recieved 200 spam messages today and I have had enough. I deleted about 5 prior posts infected by over 1000 spam messages. I will be working on a redesign this coming week.

An election is coming. Universal peace is declared and the foxes have a sincere interest in prolonging the lives of the poultry. T. S. Eliot If you aren't in over your head, how do you know how tall you are? T. S. Eliot

Happy Halloween or Devil's Night as they call it in Detroit. They burn riot, burn, and loot on Devil's Night in Detroit. No pussy trick or treating for them. Have a safe one...

Artist William Utermohlen chronicles his descent into the dementia of Alzheimers by self portraits painted over the span of nearly forty years as reported in a recent NYT article. Utermohlen's self portraits, displayed in a multimedia slideshow , are a moving, striking, and saddening evolution of an artist's perception of himself during his slow slide into the depths of this disease. Mr. Utermohlen, now 73, no longer paints and now lives in a nursing home. This post was inspired by a post by Austin Kleon .

It's hard. It's fucking hard. To write, to create, well written fiction. My idols did it and until recently I didn't know how hard it was for them too. I thought they all sat down and wrote brilliant words that ended up in thier novels. How niave I was. They revised. They massaged. They sculpted the words, sentences, and paragraghs. Epiphany. Revision, I am learning is the key to good writing. Revision, revision, revision. It sucks - but there, I believe, is where the gold lies. The road is tough and the gate is narrow but with revision I hope to plough through it. I look to the great ones for guidence, inspiration, and a roadmap. I've been told before the ones I admires time has come and gone. I disagree. Good writing is good writing and it is ageless. So - ask not for whom the bell tolls...

Ok, I thought this would be easier. I've written for most of my life. Not a novel, but I've written just the same. It seems like I'm just learning to walk. I tried short stories as my labratory with some limited success. It just didn't get me there. I am struggling with plot. I want to tell a good story that is character driven but in the end I want a good story. I've tried to outline several times and it leads me no where. I'm working on Aristotle's three act structure with plot points at the end of act I & II. I guess I am missing a critical element or component. The only thing I have figured out is the more I write the better I get. Go figure.

10 Writing Rules from Elmore Leonard drawing by Austin Kleon

Don't compromise yourself. You are all you've got. Janis Joplin

Don't get caught drunk driving

Grief 

Breath came heavy and labored after an eleven-hour drive south under stress and grief Detective Harry Beam was unfamiliar with. He witnessed and investigated all manners of death from the heinous to the benign. Never had he suffered the loss of a parent until yesterday. His mother died the day before. He was notified yesterday. It stung. It hurt. It seemed unbearable. Heart attack. They said. Advanced lung cancer but the heart attack killed her. No real surprise, the lung cancer. She smoked three packs of cigarettes a day for the last fifty-five years. She was a poster child for lung cancer, suffering debilitating coughing fits that would last for increasing durations. He sat quietly in front of the decaying house of his youth, visited just months before. He lit a cigarette. Now, only one person still lives in this home - his father. The front yard had been cleaned up and the trees, trees that Harry and his mother had planted together in his early teens were trimmed and neat but the ho

Lightning Strikes - Fiction Coming Soon 

My mother died and i have asked my brother to help me blog. I have lost it. sorry.

Storm on the horizon 

The summer season comes to an end and the thought of winter heating fuel bills makes me queasy. Gotta love it. Oil companies in action. The beauty of fall is on the horizon, leaves change, a chill in the air. This is suppose to be my year but the months are quickly slipping away. Things are falling into place and the writing is coming back. So it goes..

Smoldering 

In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit. Albert Schweitzer

For those of you who live in a cave, under a rock, or in Canada there's a popular show on MTV called Pimp My Ride . The show takes someones car, usually a less fortunate persons (usually the car is a piece of shit), and fixes it up in maximum style, comfort, and luxury. I am hijacking this concept for my blog. I am requesting and hoping that all who stop by drop a suggestion as how to make this blog the best in my chosen genre and corner of the blog universe, i.e. Pimp My Blog . So please leave any suggestions. They will be greatfully appreciated.

Detroit. Most say it, " Dee-Troit ." A city with curruption, decay, and a faded beauty that duplicates where I think America is heading in coming years if we don't change our ways. A squandered wealth built on the automobile industry slowly sliding into the abyss. Detroit is the city I have picked as the location for several short stories and novels. It has everything the mystery and suspense genre requires. I will be posting some stories soon. Thank you all, those who have continued to follow the antics of The Starving Mystery Writer. I think I may have removed my head from my ass and am back on track. I hope.

The comments now work. Please click on the number beside the blog title. Thanks. RJB

"Our dreams are our real life. My fantasies and obsessions are not only my reality, but the stuff of which my films are made." Fredrico Fellini

I have developed a renewed interest in writing and blogging so I am working on a new look for this blog. Please bear with me as I figure out how to migrate all the headings, settings, and links to the new template. Thanks for stopping by. New substantive content will be posted very soon. RJB

In a real dark night of the soul, it is always three o'clock in the morning, day after day. F. Scott Fitzgerald

Katrina August 28, 2005 at stongest point NASA sat. 

A man lays prostrate before his God. The man is neither young nor old, fat nor thin, attractive nor ugly. His life is passing him by and he is not fullfiling his life's purpose nor does he realize what his purpose may be. He cries out to God "I have nothing left, I have nothing to give, to be, to aspire. Please give me talent." God is silent. "I look back and my best days of youth are gone, I look forward and all I see is infirmity, old age, and decline. I have yet to accomplish a thing and know not what to do next. Please help me." God is silent. "I dispare, I pray, I drink, and still talent eludes me. What must I do?" God remains silent but stirs and a breeze blows upon the man. "Dear God, if you will not answer, please at least give me a sign." The man becomes aware that he is not prostrate but sitting at his desk. His face is down on a crisp piece of white paper. In his hand is a fountain pen. Written on the page in his script is "Wr

The hardest thing in the world to do is to write straight honest prose on human beings. First you have to know the subject; then you have to know how to write. Both take a lifetime to learn… Ernest Hemingway

Selling out. I've resisted it my whole life, beat of a different drummer and all that. Path not taken. Yada, yada. Selling out has different levels and each industry has its pinacle. I could mention a few bestselling authors but... I have never worked for anyone for very long but lately I've been tempted by the Devil. The illusive big money job. Offered. Sike. No deal. But, God how I wanted it. There seems to be rules to life that I can niether figure out nor adhear to. After months of anticipation I am back to the drawing board. I think I'm going to write about it...and then drink about it. Maybe not in that order, maybe simultaniously. "They" say for ever closed door, several open. Is there a selling out window, or do I just get on my knees?

For anyone still visits this blog, as you have seen, I have been in the slow slide away from posting with any regularity. Unfortunately, my writing has suffered the same fate. This wasn't exactly by design. A few things occured that shifted my focus away from writing and back towards life and the "real job". Wandering. I guess that's what the last few months have been. As Moses did for 40 years in the dessert, I, between projects always, and I mean always wander the tortures of the damned. Like a pinball I bounce between conflicting and often diametrically opposed vocations and eventually something pops or smacks me in the head as to the appropriate direction my life is to take. Well, as of today, I have many balls bouncing - in that pinball machine - with a possible tilt in the offing. I continue, futilely, to pump more and more quarters into the damn machine with little hint of the end game. Life, as I know it, will definitely change... But, where will it all lead?

Jason Evans had a pretty cool contest last week to write a 250 word story about the below picture. The 250 words that follows was my entry.... I lay, gasping for breath, bleeding from a sucking chest wound, face down on the floor, just below my favorite Monet painting. I felt the cold wood floor against my cheek and tasted something bitter and metallic as the puddle of blood reached and surrounded my face and lips. Bathed in the dim light by two antique Victorian lamps, my vision blurred as life began to leave my body. The painting had been purchased at a Sotheby’s Auction in New York after I had won my biggest divorce case several years ago, my lover’s case. This pleasant memory ebbed and flowed as my breathing became more ragged and I started to loose consciousness; I struggled to take in air but my lungs wouldn’t cooperate. I tried to stand only to feel the icy steel of the blade that had been shoved into my chest only moments before against my neck. I slumped back to the floor, res

There’s this place I used to frequent just across the street from Yale in New Haven, Connecticut – its name is Bar. That’s right just Bar. Future Presidents, Congressman and women, Senators, and power brokers congregated there on any given night to kill brain cells. I spent many nights there many nights doing the same. In the spirit of the Bunions and inspired by Jaye, I will heretofore attempt to create a fictionalized version of that bar populated by the blog characters that I know and love. Hopefully I will not insult anyone to badly. So there’s this place I go for a drink, conversation, and to ogle the mental musings of some pretty exception folks and the also ogle the asses of beautiful women. Quirky, yes. Opinionated. I’d say so. It’s not the place for the weak of heart. It’s a dirt floor, sock ‘em in the eye, bar where intellectuals, writers, politicians, poets, artists, want-a-be’s, never was’s, never will be’s, the famous, and infamous, all drink from the same trough. The Blog

Tides roll, as prisms reflect unseen hues, Winds whisper and hint, of dreams that batter shores and shoals, with a journey beyond conception, Fate fades, precious reality rests where the Sun sets Thoughts of youth subside, reside and resolve the ultimate, the inevitable, will occur, as tides roll, sun sets, changes, reflects, and fades. . . by RJB

Once there was a cat in my life and now there is none. The once was a woman in my life and now there is a new one. The cat was one its ninth life when it entered my life, the woman was, well… Mystery writers seem attracted to cats for what ever reason. Perhaps it’s their independent nature with uncontrollable personalities that border on neurotic. My cat was originally revived with an oxygen acetylene torch at the manufacturing plant I was running at the time, after a young child had flung the poor kitten from the hayloft at a nearby barn. I thought if it had the spirit to survive it deserved a good home, so I had it for the last seven years. I had a love hate relationship with it. Its name was Dino after Dean Martin, though I mostly called it Honey. A mutt, orange and white, with the temperament of a pit bull. Honey began as an indoor cat until I was held over in China a week and I came back to a very pissed off cat that had torn up parts of the basement where I had left it. So Honey

Why does life seem to get in the way of all plans? I had intended to be well on my way towards completition of my novel, have several short stories submitted for publication, have the business book that I am co-authoring nearing completion, finish a play that I'm in the second act of, etc., etc., etc. Life interviens. Work. Dating. Career. Pursuit of love. Dissappointments. Triumphs. The creative flame that was once burning brightly is flickering, the heart still beats, but the hand no long writes. The interest and passion is still there and my mind turns to it briefly during the day but demands for other things sidetrack me. I can see why Raymond Chandler was not too prolific. To live to write, you must live. The life I wish to live is no longer nine to five, punch the clock, get the pension. Money, for sure, is very important but relationships are more so. The American dream, as advertised, no longer holds any interest. So, off I go, chasing dragons to slay, damsils to save, and

"if i love you with all of my heart, she said what will you give me? and then she stopped and said i didn't have to answer that because she was going to do it any way." -kahlil gibran, the beloved "the thought of you sings, smiles,shines, and dances like a joyous fire that gives out a thousand colors. and penetrating warmth." -gustave flaubert "...love was just saying ah what the heck and letting go, and accepting,...yes, love was accepting." -rick bass, the watch "once the realization is accepted that even between the closest human beings infinite distances continue to exist, a wonderful living side by side can grow up, if they succed in loving the distance between them which makes it possible for each to see

The changes in our life must come from the impossibility to live otherwise than according to the demands of our conscience not from our mental resolution to try a new form of life. Leo Tolstoy Nature gives to every time and season some beauties of its own; and from morning to night, as from the cradle to the grave, it is but a succession of changes so gentle and easy that we can scarcely mark their progress. Charles Dickens For me, a landscape does not exist in its own right, since its appearance changes at every moment; but the surrounding atmosphere brings it to life - the light and the air which vary continually. For me, it is only the surrounding atmosphere which gives subjects their true value. Claude Monet Colors, like features, follow the changes of the emotions. Pablo Picasso

Insanity

Never permit a dichotomy to rule your life, a dichotomy in which you hate what you do so you can have pleasure in your spare time. Look for a situation in which your work will give you as much happiness as your spare time. Pablo Picasso The chief enemy of creativity is "good" sense. Pablo Picasso

Friendship is a single soul dwelling in two bodies. Aristotle There is no remedy for love but to love more. Henry David Thoreau

Click. “Son of a bitch!” Trevor Barrow removed the cold gun muzzle from his temple and let his pistol hand fall and began to sob. “I can’t do anything right.” He leaned back against his late model, dark blue, Mercedes. His double-breasted suit was rumpled, a silk tie hung loose around his thick neck. He drew a half empty fifth of Glenlivet Scotch to his lips and gulped. Wiping his lips on a shirtsleeve, he smeared Scotch across the raised monogrammed cuff. Trevor’s car sat under a bridge in a seedy part of downtown Detroit between two abandoned factories. The cars exhaust fumes commingled with the wafting sewer steam to create a toxic fog that enveloped him. The acrid smell of rotting garbage, urine, and sewer gas made him cough as a chill went through him. Flames licked out of a nearby rusty 55-gallon barrel. He sat the bottle on the roof of the car and steadied it. In a quick movement, he racked the slide to chamber a round. Shadows danced in a se

A woman may very well form a friendship with a man, but for this to endure, it must be assisted by a little physical antipathy. Ah, women. They make the highs higher and the lows more frequent. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you. Friedrich Nietzsche

Life has gotten busy of late, in very good ways. Blogging, unforunately took a back seat. I have decided to get back into the dating world and restart my career in consulting and law. I've found an office, started wearing a suit, tie, underwear, and socks and re-entered society. I'm working out daily, eating right, and consuming less alcohol. This past week I've returned to court, the art scene, and smoozed past and future clients. I've been out on an excellent date with a beautiful, intelligent, woman and traveled a bit. These distractions were well needed and long in coming. Writing and blogging are now back on my agenda and you should see a notable difference in the topics I choose to blog about. Thanks for stopping by...

If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don't write, because our culture has no use for it. Anais Nin It takes courage to push yourself to places that you have never been before... to test your limits... to break through barriers. And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. Anais Nin Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country. Anais Nin

To be published, at what cost? The end game is getting published, but with the current proliferation of e-publishing, vanity publishing and the like ,what does a writer gain for being published at any cost? As some of you know, I am in a mystery writers critique group. A recent potential new writer came to our last meeting and was so distraught over her recent publishing experience that she had been unable to write since publication. She received no advance, no editting, and no marketing, advertising, or distribution of her book. She did give up the rights to her book and the characters involved thereof. I was wondering why the hell she would want to be published this bad, but really you and I know why. In the pursuit of publication, authors give up too much, with little in return. Preditors and Editors Website is supposedly a watch dog but I have heard horror stories from writers that have published with houses that receive passing marks or negative marks and authors had an opposite e

What is past is prologue. William Shakespeare I wasted time, and now doth time waste me. William Shakespeare The only thing we know about the future is that it will be different. Peter F. Drucker The best way to predict the future is to create it. Peter F. Drucker

For some unknown reason, creativity courses again through my mind. After a prolonged fallow time, writing creatively has returned in full force. Why now? Personal resolution? Dark clouds passed? The storm has moved beyond me? I have no idea why, it just happened. How do you spur creativity? Go to a special physical or mental place? Is there an exercise?

The chief enemy of creativity is "good" sense. Pablo Picasso Almost always, the creative dedicated minority has made the world better. Martin Luther King, Jr. The creative writer uses his life as well as being its victim; he can control, in his work, the self-presentation that in actuality is at the mercy of a thousand accidents. John Updike

Detective Harry Beam sat way outside his jurisdiction in front of a disheveled house in rural North Carolina. As he stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray of a non-descript black sedan, he opened the door and stepped out on the gravel-strewn driveway. He walked and entered the disintegrating side door of the house without knocking. The air was thick with grease, cooking seafood, and cigarette smoke. A one-eyed black pit bull lay motionless on the floor in front of the kerosene heater. He stepped over it. An older woman slowly breathed oxygen through the airlines fished throughout the door casings of the decaying house from an oxygen machine that wheezed silently with every breath. She sat at the Formica kitchen table in a well-worn nightgown, aged glasses, no teeth and a complacent look. Very pretty at one time, now her hair was black with gray streaks, matted and hung in sweaty stringy clumps. Now she was just old. Beauty remained but very faint, hidden, subdued, and masked by old

"I'm walkin' down that long, lonesome road, babe Where I'm bound, I can't tell But goodbye's too good a word, gal So I'll just say fare thee well I ain't sayin' you treated me unkind You could have done better but I don't mind You just kinda wasted my precious time But don't think twice, it's all right Bob Dylan

The Earth At Night 

In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on. Robert Frost Don't ever take a fence down until you know why it was put up. Robert Frost A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. Robert Frost

Yesterday, I received my first rejection letter from Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine. It was my very first rejection for my writing. I must admit it stings. It was a form letter of about three sentences. It came at an interesting time in my life –on the very day I was to meet a former love to see if our relationship would be worthy of another try – it wasn’t. She rejected me. Our relationship has been over for several months and this last conversation hammered the total and complete end home. Finality. I know it’s for the best, and in deep in my heart, I know she made the right decision. Though, knowing that doesn’t make the pain any less. I just got back from a trip to see my parents. They are aged and in frail health. I only get to see them once a year. This year may have been the last time I will see them. I tried in vain to say the things I wanted to say to them but the words would not come out. For several months, I have been taking a personal inventory, looking hard at actions, mot

There's nothing like rejection to make you do an inventory of yourself. James Lee Burke Every rejection is incremental payment on your dues that in some way will be translated back into your work. James Lee Burke

A man may fulfill the object of his existence by asking a question he cannot answer, and attempting a task he cannot achieve. Oliver Wendell Holmes Many people die with their music still in them. Why is this so? Too often it is because they are always getting ready to live. Before they know it, time runs out. Oliver Wendell Holmes

I have been out of town for the last several days, working through some personal issues and have been unable to blog with any substance. Thank you for continuing to visit. I will return to substantive blogging early next week. Thanks. RJB

The changes in our life must come from the impossibility to live otherwise than according to the demands of our conscience not from our mental resolution to try a new form of life. Leo Tolstoy

Forgiveness is the remission of sins. For it is by this that what has been lost, and was found, is saved from being lost again. Saint Augustine Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heal that has crushed it. Mark Twain Love is an act of endless forgiveness, a tender look which becomes a habit. Peter Ustinov

It was 2 degrees yesterday. Here is where my mind wandered. 

The language of friendship is not words but meanings. Henry David Thoreau In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit. Albert Schweitzer True friends stab you in the front. Oscar Wilde The true friend stabs you in the chest, to excise the tumor that is within, for without its removal, you shall surely perish. R.J.Baker (insired by Oscar Wilde)

Sorry, for a week I have kind of been sucked into life's abyss. I haven't been able to blog anything of significance as I battled internal demons in my head and external demons in my life. I finally made it over to Flashing in the Gutters , a flash fiction site by Tribe . Please check them out, if you haven't already, there is a whole lot of really good free short fiction there.

I have been driven many times to my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had nowhere to go. My own wisdom, and that of all about me, seemed insufficient for the day. Abraham Lincoln The course of true love never did run smooth. William Shakespeare

Sunset in Venice 

Do not quench your inspiration and your imagination; do not become the slave of your model. Vincent Van Gogh Each morning my characters greet me with misty faces willing, though chilled, to muster for another day's progress through the dazzling quicksand the marsh of blank paper. John Updike

I woke up his morning at 3:30 with a story idea. Afraid of losing it, I immediately wrote it out long hand. The words flowed. They were coherent. The story was actually pretty good. Later, I typed it out, edited a few mistakes, and printed it out. I plan on doing revisions in a few days and submitting it. I liked the process. Several months ago, I spoke briefly with Matthew J. Bruccoli about his edit of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Last Tycoon. I told him of my budding interest in writing and asked him for advice. One of his main points of guidance was to write everything out long hand first-pen or pencil and paper. He said writing on a word processor hurt style. I was skeptical, but after this morning, I think he may be right – at least for me. I think it was Hemingway who said that he wrote everything long hand, then typed it out (or had it typed), reviewed and made changes in draft form. Do you write first long hand? What do you think about the effect of the word processor as the point

In an attempt to understand the business side of a book deal, I will lay out the issues that seem important and my understanding of them. I know there are many variances and differences between small and large publishers but I will try to review the issues in general terms. Once the book is written the next goal is "the deal" but at what point is a deal a "good deal"? Advances. From what I understand, advances run from $0 to hundreds of thousands of dollars. With the typical first time author getting an average of between $1,000 to $7,500. J.A. Konrath signed a three book deal with Hyperion in 2003 for "low six figures" for discussion purposes only let's assume the advance was $150k or $50k per book. A good deal? Yeah, probably in the scheme of things. He recently signed another 3 book deal beyond the original. When is the adance paid? Probably a triggering event, like submission of completed manuscript for edit. Royalties. I've read that royalties

Love. Fall in love and stay in love. Write only what you love, and love what you write. The key word is love. You have to get up in the morning and write something you love, something to live for. Ray Bradbury

Big Al's Valentine to Bugs Moran: The gift that keeps on giving... 

The last thing one discovers in composing a work is what to put first. In my beginning is my end. T. S. Eliot

Blocked. Not the type ruffage will clear. I haven't even been able to blog, write fiction, write anything for a while now. It woke me up at 4 a.m. today - I've written 2 paragraghs of fiction in the last couple of weeks. Why? Personal shit getting me down? Maybe. Story well run dry? Don't think so. Introspection? Yep. Soul searching? Yes. Fear? Na. Loathing? Yes. Yes. Yes. Fear? Maybe. Self doubt? Getting warm. Fear? Yep, you caught me. A writer I respect wrote me a long email after I whined to her. She said write 1000 words a day, even if it sucks the big hairy green one. Today I write. . .

When I face the desolate impossibility of writing five hundred pages a sick sense of failure falls on me and I know I can never do it. This happens every time. Then gradually I write one page and then another. One day's work is all I can permit myself to contemplate and I eliminate the possibility of ever finishing. John Steinbeck Just get it down on paper, and then we'll see what to do about it. Maxwell Perkins Find a subject you care about and which you in your heart feel others should care about. It is this genuine caring, not your games with language, which will be the most compelling and seductive element in your style. Kurt Vonnegut

Writing has laws of perspective, of light and shade just as painting does, or music. If you are born knowing them, fine. If not, learn them. Then rearrange the rules to suit yourself. Truman Capote Writing stopped being fun when I discovered the difference between good writing and bad and, even more terrifying, the difference between it and true art. And after that, the whip came down. Truman Capote

I read somewhere that Hemingway, at the end of his writing day, would stop mid-sentence, or even mid-word, in his attempt to keep his writing fresh for the next day. A writer friend of mine says he does the same thing. I am intrigued. How many other writers do this? Does it help? I complete my thoughts, scenes, and words. Maybe this would help when I begin to write in the morning. Just a thought.

Attitude is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than what people do or say. It is more important than appearance, giftedness, or skill. W. C. Fields

Good sex is like good bridge. If you don't have a good partner, you'd better have a good hand. Mae West

“…my tongue traced circular arcs down her tanned belly to her navel following a fine line of hair. She moaned and arched her hips to meet my lips as I …” Why is that so hard to write and so much harder to read? Sex is a major part of the human existence and actually the better part. Is it our puritan roots that cause us to cringe, recoil, or skip reading sex scenes in novels? A recent panel of well known best selling mystery authors struggled with description of how or if to write compelling sex scenes. They came to very few conclusions other than the sex or love scene must advance the plot and reveal character in one or both of the participants. Why are we as Americans so afraid of sex? I don’t get it. Sex permeates almost every aspect of our society from all forms of media. We can’t drive past a billboard, pick up a newspaper, magazine, listen to radio, watch any movie or television program without being overwhelmed by it. Ok, it’s hard for many writers to write and many readers to r

Friendships, like marriages, are dependent on avoiding the unforgivable. John D. MacDonald

How much more can the publishing world be damaged? The Washington Post reports today that "the writer penning the novels of "JT LeRoy," a purported 25-year-old former male prostitute and drug addict, has been unmasked as a 40-year-old woman who allegedly undertook the ruse to get her work recognized." From the article posted today: "LeRoy never existed and Laura Albert authored the books, according to an attorney for her estranged partner, Geoffrey Knoop. Knoop, 39, who apologized for playing a role in the hoax, said the stress of keeping it secret had become too much to bear. The couple split in December after 16 years and were trying to work out custody of their young son. "He's wanted to come clean and let JT fade away," attorney Eric Feig said of Knoop late Monday. "He wanted to take the high road." He has also secured a movie deal to tell his side of the story, Feig said. The unveiling of LeRoy comes as the literary world is questio

After three days of intense immersion and many drinks at the Chicago Love is Murder Mystery Conference, I have emerged, tired as hell and enlightened. I will list the Top-Ten significant ideas I took away from the conference. Summary The Love is Murder Conference was very well executed, rich with information, interactivity, and mingled the published, the unpublished, fans, reviewers, publishers, bookstore owners, magazine publishers, and librarians. I would recommend it to any one who loves mystery. Everyone was open, honest, and approachable, from the most famous to the unknown. A finer group of people, I have never met. THE TOP TEN 10.) Writing Sex Scenes are Hard I was surprised how many talented well-known writers had difficulty writing sex scenes. It was unanimous that any sex scene should advance the plot and reveal something about the characters in the scene. 9.) Need for Viral Marketing and a Platform David Morrell gave the Keynote speech on “viral marketing” and “platform”. Th

We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really stop to look fear in the face... we must do that which we think we cannot. Do what you feel in your heart to be right- for you'll be criticized anyway. You'll be damned if you do, and damned if you don't. I once had a rose named after me and I was very flattered. But I was not pleased to read the description in the catalogue: no good in a bed, but fine up against a wall. Eleanor Roosevelt

To reach a port, we must sail - sail, not tie at anchor - sail, not drift. It isn't sufficient just to want - you've got to ask yourself what you are going to do to get the things you want. When you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on. Franklin D. Roosevelt

The Love is Murder conference is over. I had planned to write a good blog about it today, but my mind is mush - the sponge is full - as my mother would say. I just watched the Super Bowl with mild interest. I wanted to write something, but nothing is making it to the page. It seems Blogger was constipated yesterday, when I did have something to say. So tonight, I'll punt.....

Innovation distinguishes between a leader and a follower. Steve Jobs My girlfriend always laughs during sex - no matter what she's reading. Steve Jobs

I asked two questions over the last few days and Mark Terry was gracious enough to answer them. My question: Mark; I don't understand the dynamics of Hardcovers for new authors - the economics don't seen right. How can the book buying public be expected to shell out $25+ for an unknown author. Does it have to do with library sales? Why not trade paperbacks. It seems like the new author at least then has a fightling chance for someone to spend $10-$15 and everyone should still be able to make some scratch this way. John D. MacDonald, an author I admire and respect, put out most of his in mass market paperback. I have read where he made more money this way. Some were eventually published in hardcover, but most came out originally in paperback. What do you think? An Excerpt of his answer : Always a worthwhile question, RJ, and I wish I understood it. I suspect it's part prestige. The rest is probably library sales, which can be considerable, in that there's about 10,000 li

“If it sounds like writing, I rewrite it.” “I try to leave out the parts that people skip.” Elmore Leonard

Why do most large publishers bring out new authors in hardcover, instead of trade or mass market paperback? Does love really conquer all? If you were stranded on a desserted island and could have one book with you, which one would you choose?

Hell hath no fury like a hustler with a literary agent. Frank Sinatra I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day. Frank Sinatra You miss 100 percent of the shots you never take. Wayne Gretzky

The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of because words diminish your feelings - words shrink things that seem timeless when they are in your head to no more than living size when they are brought out. Stephen King