MMWUC - Adrenalin Junkie

Can the coffee; stash the soft drink; close the bag of chocolate. Having a Book Launch Party for my novel, ONE PROMISE TOO MANY, as the official kick-off to my new full-time career as a writer is the best adrenalin rush of all. Otherwise, how can I write this at 5:20 a.m. after having knocked off 238 emails since 11 p.m. Sunday night? The reality of the hard work will soon settle upon me. The two-headed beast of production (writing) and marketing (street book pusher) will force me to make tough decisions about the time commitments in is new life, but for now, I rush forward into this brave new world armed with a book and one heck of an adrenalin rush.

And the Monday morning wake-up call for today...never lose sight of your goal. In ONE PROMISE TOO MANY, Detective Stark has to fight through a lot (disappointments at home and work, lots of unknowns, and the number of hours being awake) to reach his goal. So what does your protagonist have to overcome to reach his goal? What stokes his adrenalin rush? Are you making it too easy for him?

Book Launch Party, ahoy!

Saturday is my first ever Book Launch Party (BLP). I invited Stephen King, Amy Tan, Salman Rushdie, Clive Cussler, and many others in my head. But, knowing that they are busy writing, hobnobbing with the rich and famous, and the famous who are famous for being famous, think Kim Kardashian, I'm excited that my friends, family, and boosters of my career are going to be there with me. It's amazing what you can do when you have support and encouragement. Make sure you encourage someone who has a dream today, tomorrow, and every day. That's how dreams really come true. Yeah, I'm sloppy with sentiment this morning, but I'll fix that. I've got to put my protagonist in harms way, and it's not going to be pretty. Someone dies. You'll find out who in about 18 months.

Get out there and make this day count.

A Tribute to Writing 101

Character's bold; first lines that incite.
Stow back-story, drop clues in plain sight.
Far flung locales with twists dynamite.
Readers want more through the darkened night.

Scene and structure; a voice to ignite.
Arc, spark, and start, motivated flight.
Injured hero with poisonous bite.
Readers need more through the darkened night.

Compose words spare; type sentences tight.
Sling power nouns, strong verbs flexing might.
Byzantine plots with dialogue slight.
Readers crave more through the darkened night.

Nostrils aflame; taste buds burning bright.
Sounds cascading, exploding eyesight.
Fingers aglow with textured delight.
Readers cry, "More!" through the darkened night.

McGuffin twist; obscure victim's plight.
Elusive clues, raising tension's height.
Solutions wrong with thoughts not quite right.
Readers plead, "More!!" through the darkened night.

Mirrored images; good/evil insight.
Black moment bleak, then climatic fight
Lessons revealed with dénouement's rite.
Readers scream, "More!!!" at morning's first light.

Waiting out the Bad

Finally, the rain cleared and the clouds parted at sunset yesterday. We paddled around the lake, catching up to a mom and pop pair of eagles; one dipped and caught a fish bigger than any I'd caught since I'd been up at the lake in the cabin in the woods in northern Wisconsin. A yearly followed behind, begging for food that they probably didn't give him. "Find your own," mom yelled. No otters this year, but some loons dove under the silent canoe near a small island in the lake as the dull sunset burst into oranges, reds, and purples to match the changing leaves on the shoreline. You'll have to take my wife's description of the colors; I'm colorblind. A bat skillfully dipped near us to capture unnamed bugs hovering in the wake of our relatively warm bodies. Soon it was almost dark and the owls started. I do a good owl impression and had a lovely chat with a Bared (sp) owl until he realized I was also a boy. Fifteen minutes later, he had impassioned love with a cutie. They screamed like monkeys in a jungle. Then the stars revealed themselves slowly. The first one for a wish, and then they all clamored for attention. A few even fell to Earth, streaking across the sky. Finally, time to dock and for once, she didn't dump me into the cold water. "Make me a fire." She batted her eyes. I did. A glass of brandy later, she was out like a tired sled dog after the Iditarod. Some times you just have to wait out the bad to get to the good.

MMWUC - Tighten Up

No, this post is not about Archie Bell and the Drells and their signature song. It's about tightening your story. It is my #1 guideline, because, well, because (yeah, that can be tightened) most writers I critique haven't done so. I've not perfected tightening yet, but I know it doesn't happen on the first draft. Don't throw that first draft out for critiquing, put it under your pillow for a week. Gain distance from the love you have for your words. Then, after you've taken out the awkward sentences and confusing words, you might get a critique that will really help your budding piece. Following the guideline to resources that can truly help you out.

Define Success

Aside from personal satisfaction, I wonder now what would be considered the threshold for success for a self-pubbed book (electronic and/or paperback). Before the onslaught of electronic and paperback self-pub options that exploded on the scene 4-6 years ago, I read that 500 sales was considered a best-seller for vanity press -- with most of those successes being cookbooks not novels. After only a two months with a published book and watching the rise and fall of rankings on various sites, I can believe 500 would be considered a best seller. 500 sales, I'm hoping so with ONE PROMISE TOO MANY and more.

The Other Half Speaks Up

My better half has finally finished NAKED AND HUNGRY by Ashley Memory and PENELOPE AND THE BIRTHDAY CURSE by Ron D. Voigts. She enjoyed both calling Naked and Hungry an entertaining read and just the right length for a long plane ride. full of those "special" characters you'd find in any southern town. Penelope was a humorous, page-turning read that kept you guessing who the murderer is. She found it a refreshing tween read that returned her back to her younger years in spirit, but found the story enjoyed as an adult. So, there you have it from the north woods of Wisconsin. Page turners for your enjoyment.

MMWUC - NANOWRIMO

I see my NANOWRIMO friends getting eager to write by a slow increase in the email chatter for kick-off meetings. "Hey! Write now." They shouldn't wait; they should write all the time. Lecture over.

But, for those who don't know about the NAtional NOvel WRIting MOnth, it's a month long competition to write a novel, generally considered to be 50,000 words in length, in a month. It has mutated over the years. It's as much about the journey of writing and the camaraderie of writers, along with the celebration of anything related to writing. I've participated since 2003, and even though I haven't "won" each year, I always get a good start on a new story. A MATTER OF FAITH was a 2005 winner of 68,000 words and is now a published novel, alongside ONE PROMISE TOO MANY. METEOR MAGIC got its start in 2009 and will be out in early 2012. The stirrings of an idea for this year has begun. The biggest point: I will have published two books more than Snooki.

Are you making the leap into NANO writing? Is there a book eating your brain before zombies get to it?

Voices in the Wilderness

As comes as no surprise to anyone, I've been tweeting. I can't believe the number of writers out there in the twittervesre: wannabe writers, good writers, bad writers, writers begging you to read their masterpiece, writers wanting to help you (usually for a price), writers frustrated (stand in line), elated, cute ones, and desperate ones (buy my book or I'll kill myself). I didn't buy the book. He's still out there tweeting.

I'm this tiny voice in a vast arena with what I think is a good book, as do all authors think about their books. I guess I'll have to run naked through an airport screening in a couple of weeks when I return to North Carolina so I can get on the evening news and attract a larger audience.

So, what are you going to do to get that bigger audience?

To Kill A Mocking Herd

Me and the four Ms. Daisys returned from a Ham Hock and Blood Sausage eating marathon (I had chicken.) at Dixie's Dinner in Antigo and found both doors to the cabin locked and us keyless. So I call sister-in-law. "Oh, there's no hidden key to the cabin." I've been searching around the cabin for five minutes while the Ms. Daisys (85, 84, 83, and 78 years old) unfold themselves from the car, gather canes and walkers, and uneaten food in boxes. They're conspiraring: the usual multi-decibal chatter has dulled to the click-clicks of some African tribe that you catch on a public TV special. Eventually, the decision is made. Bust in the screen on the only window left open. After retrieving the ladder from the garage, the fight is on for the honor of making like a second-story criminal on a one-story house. All had reasons to want to go: "I'm the oldest." "I'm the youngest." "Well, I take yoga." (She bends to pick up her cane to demonstrate her flexibility.) "It's my cabin," my mother-in-law screeches, making her way with her walker from the outhouse. Thank goodness we still have the two-seater. I'm no spring chicken, but I'm up the ladder. I win. I didn't want to bend any window parts, so I work on the screen methodically while wondering how theives would get it. Finally, brut force wins. The screen pops inward, and I tumbled in through the window. The geese honk; chipmunks chatter; loons call; the heard does some weak redition of Arsenio Hall's "woo-woo." No one asks if I'm hurt.

I find the keys in the pocket of the shorts I changed out of just before we left hours ago. It is my fault, and now, I'll never be able to live it down. Too many witnesses. Unless...

How does your antagonist go about getting rid of unwanted witnesses to a crime and what's the best way for me?

MMWUC - Do Writers Really Vacation?

I don't think writers really vacation. How can you? I'm here in the northern woods of Wisconsin. A placid lake reflects sunrise's promise of a gentle warm day when a hodag emerges from a nearby cave and devours a carelss chipmunk, chirping like a leaky faucet announcing a call to a breakfast he'll never eat. But this is a baby hodag and an eagle swoops down to carry him off for her babies, born too late in the year though they are nearly as big as she. Excuse my wandering mind.

Chipmunks chatter
Echo leaky sink
acorn clatter
noisly kerplink.

Old cabin groans
legacy years past
honeymoon moans
ensuring it lasts.

I really need to get some food in the cabin, but this is story, and to keep the tension high, a cannon goes off deep in the woods. I'm under attack from the boy scout camp down the road. They're actually zombie boy scouts looking for little old ladies to help across the street and chomp down on their well seasoned brains (don't get mad at me! that's what zombies do). They're in luck. Four octogenarian women are coming to visit me for five days and extol the benefits of blue hair, walkers, and favorite memories of hodags they have known. Perhaps therein lies inspiration for the next story. I guess writers really don't vacation.

And how are you falling into your next story?

Life Grabs Rick

A writing lesson this morning in trying to do too many things at once. Must write now about these feelings of having to be in two places at once. In the book, of course, there's a huge disaster. His mom gets killed, but he saves his kid. In my case, if the leaf mulch is dumped in the wrong spot, my wife kills me because we'd never get it moved in time for the Book Launch Party for my two novels, ONE PROMISE TOO MANY and A MATTER OF FAITH. The opposing event, there's a sale that ended at noon at the grocery store for Extreme Moose Tracks ice cream and the mulch guy comes at the same time as the end of the sale. Naturally, I saved the ice cream. It will be the fuel to help me move the mulch during the middle of the night. Sometimes a win-win is really a win-win.

Remember, put your protagonist in a can't win situation. It's painful, but you need the squirm factor in your novel.

MMWUC - Labor Day

What does your antagonist do on labor day? In ONE PROMISE TOO MANY, mine is executing the crime of the decade no matter what Detective Stark does. In A MATTER OF TIME, mine was planning the murder of a rich man. Just what do master criminals do on holidays? Okay, I'm stretching things here, but my power keeps going on and off for no apparent reason, and the letter "f" refuses to cooperate.  I had to type that one four times.

Justin Beiber, Lady Gaga, Selena Gomez, one of the Obama girls, me.  What do we have in common? All will release a book in 2012. Michele O'Bockman will call for a congressional inquiry over the Obama girl book. Nancy Pelosi will fall down a flight of stairs while reading Lady Gaga's book. Justin and Celene Dion will hook up. There I've made my predictions. Now, time to make breakfast since I can't whack weeds.

Blathering Badly?

I'm in the early stages of marketing my books, "One Promise Too Many" and "A Matter of Faith". It takes up a lot of my time and energy being restrained and not overly blabbing about them on Facebook (but I'm pretty darn excited about it) or blogging each time about them (but I'm pretty darn excited about it) or shouting about them on Twitter (but I'm really darn excited about it). Well, actually, I think that's the purpose of Twitter. It's the ultimate social media where the primary purpose seems to be shouting about "me, me, me" and how clever I am, even if most of it is just bad banal blathering. Other sales avenues are slowly opening up. But the question remains...

...what do you do to ensure the rest of the world knows you have written the best book ever?

Box in the Mail

I received a box in the mail today. Books. My books. My books that I must sell. "Yippee," and "Oh, crap," collided in time and space like two electrons going around the CERN Superconducting Laboratory and trying to occupy the same slice of bologna that some careless worker left behind. It got me thinking though, as most things do in my overly-charged brain, about having a character in my story receive a mysterious package.

How would your protagonist react to a mysterious package ending up on his/her desk? Open it like a Christmas gift or call Homeland Security to blow it up?

P.S. I also can't believe this is the last day of the summer months.

MMWUC - Rain with that Hurricane?

Hurricane Irene came and went. The outer rain bands stopped at the county line, about 1/2 mile from my house. I got .15 inches of rain and two downed branches. Thirty miles to the east, they got 3 inches and some trees down. Near the coast, one town drowned under 19 inches of rain in just over one day. Reporting on Irene has been weird and reaction weirder. I could say, "Irene, a bust." I had to water my plants the next day. However, some of the media and individual-centric comments about the storm have been, well, stupid, calling Irene, much to do about nothing. Lift your head people. Just because your little island of reality wasn't affected, millions were. Just water your plants or ride your bicycle and be very, very thankful the storm didn't creep over the county line and put your life on hold for the next few months.

Writers: How have you used the weather in your story to enhance the readers experience?

Hurricane Writer

Hurrican Irene. 'Nuff said. Write your hurricane story. Make your voice heard. If you're somewhere else, write an anti-hurricane story.

Eye of the Storm

I stood near the open garage door, as a garbage can flew past me. "Close one," I yelled, over the huffing and puffing noises. I should really take shelter inside and wait until this blows over, but I was hypnotized by the rage and fury. I wondered what next? I didn't have to wait long. A sturdy shrub, that had grown millimeters into my neighbors yard was yanked out the ground. Dirt and twigs slammed against the side of the house, then slid down like a figther who'd take his last punch. Paralyzed the the display, I squinted in defiance. A cop car cruised down the street, eyeing me. Without warning, a calmness overtook the entire scene.

My nextdoor neighbor came over. "I'll clean up the mess, but next time," he leaned into me, "make sure your herd of hamsters poop on your yard, not mine.

Inspiration

Inspiration has struck in the midst of trying to get A MATTER OF FAITH prepared for publication on Amazon, CreateSpace, and Smashwords. What if -- A dozen people are trapped in a high-rise building after an historic earthquake while a powerful hurricane barrels towards them, and one of them is disposed dictator bent on revenge. Oh yeah, and another one is a hunky vampire. Oh yeah, and there's the famous newly-weds who are paparazzi-crazed, because, well, that's all they're famous for, being in public. And don't forget the two old, fat, white guys who can't agree on any solution to their problem. It's like this story was ripped from the headlines. Can I have the NBA now?

MMWUC - Is Your Protagonist Is Mad At You

Book #2, A MATTER OF FAITH, is officially done. No more revising, editing, or tweaking. It's production time on Monday, which will spill over into Tuesday and finally wrap up on Thursday. In between, I have to replace the car that died on me, take another in for maintenance, visit my dermatologist so she can tell me I have more skin cancer, find an endocronologist, and prop up the loofahs that are overrunning the garden. Lots to do, but I really should spend some time with the co-protagonist (he really hates to be a "co"...thinks he can carry the whole book) of my next book. He's lonely and swears he won't cooperate with the writing.

What do you do when your protagonist won't cooperate? Bribe? Spank? False praise?

Nothing about Nothing and That's Something

I'm going to rest today. I'm going to build an arch under my loofahs, weed whack weeds, finish mulching a section of the bush bed that is 95.34% complete, and I may even cut some errant small trees and the one that feel during the windstorm the other night. I may go to the dump. I may even move some of the dirt pile at the end of my driveway...yeah, right...dirt. It's good old, heavier than gold, red clay. I've got to have a day away from the computer. Will I be successful. Probably not. My name is Rick. I'm an addict. It has been three hours since I last touched my keyboard. The shakes aren't too bad, but...