There’s Nothing Like The Feeling of Publishing a Doomsday Pandemic Book Before There is an Actual Pandemic

Not that I like to toot my own writing horn, but back in 2018 I wrote and published a novel about the results of a pandemic. The title is Eden and it’s all about how a smallpox variant is used to cure over population, and then gets used to keep the population in check. Must like the Thanos Snap, lots of people disappear but so do all of those pesky things like global warming and poverty. Which is kind of either intensely sad or very comforting, depending on which side you’re on.

Anyway, if you feel like checking it out the e-book it’s around the same price of a one of those flashy Starbuck’s coffee you can buy in whatever country you live in.

The Myth of the Tortured Artist

 A great video that digs into the reality of the tortured artist. Is it a thing? And if it’s a thing, is the ‘tortured’ artist more productive?

The Tale of the Unbending Thumb

 I haven’t posted for months. This was because during my enthusiastic push to finish some outstanding home maintenance, I wrecked the tendon in my left thumb. Well, perhaps not wrecked. I mean it was still there. It’s just that it would no longer bend without making a horrible clicking sound, and as time wore on it would bend but not bend back. (I discovered that people freak out when other people have a thumb bent at an odd angle and it stays there.) And finally, it didn’t bend at all. It stayed permanently straight for two and a half months.

And just to really annoy me, it hurt to type.

So, I scaled back a bit and dedicated my limited keyboard hours to my second book (first novel), and everything else got shoved to one side. Like this blog. And the stories I intended to post to Wattpad. And loads of other stuff.

On the good side, at long last I had an excuse to hire a housekeeper (and when I say ‘housekeeper’ I mean a local teenager who needs to save money for nursing school). “It’s me tendon, see. It don’t bend like it used to. Can’t do no cleaning around the house as it hurts me delicate widdle hand. And I’m old. Me knees. Me knees...” The physiotherapist told me that being lazy seemed to be helping as every time I tried to mop my floor, or vacuum the carpet I made my thumb worse. Encouraged by a valid medical reason to shirk my household duties, I promptly hired someone to weed my garden.

Two weeks ago my thumb suddenly started to bend again without causing me blinding pain. Ironically it was when I was getting an ultrasound for my thumb so the physiotherapist could figure out what was going on. He seemed vaguely disappointed that my thumb had decided to cooperate as he’d been pushing for a steroid injection for weeks. 

But I’m not complaining as here I am, right at the end of August (having injured it in May), with a working thumb.

I guess I’d better start blogging again...

Irony: “a state of affairs or an event that seems deliberately contrary to what one expects and is often wryly amusing as a result”

Ian McEwan helps his kid with an essay for English A-Levels, gets a C+ because the teacher disagrees with the author’s own thoughts about author’s own book. 🤣🤣🤣

Stranger than fiction: Ian McEwan’s son got a C in an A-level essay about one of his father’s books

In other news: literary books sales are down because... literary.

The Strange Business of Being an Author

I managed to finish my book (at long last) in December of 2017. After that I took a break and traveled to my parent’s place for the holidays and provided the family with IT support (ah, Christmas traditions). When I got back home, I set about writing query letters to agents.

I decided that this is an oddly depressing activity. I’ve made the effort to write an entire novel and now I’m faced with begging someone to read it in the vain hope that this same mysterious someone thinks they can make money from it.

My depression wasn’t helped by reading this article in The Atlantic: Why I’m Still Trying to Get a Book Deal After 10 Years

I cannot imagine spending a decade trying to get a book deal. Especially when the article’s author managed to score a literary agent on multiple occasions only to be dumped when the agent couldn’t sell the manuscript. I’m going to lose interest in six months. Probably less. (A Writers’ Digest article suggested that an author should query 80 agents. To which I say, “I’m too lazy. Also, I have better things to do with my life.”)

Also, querying agents is an oddly bizarre activity. I’m hard pressed to think of other careers/jobs that come with these types of rules. Can you imagine other industries working in this way? “I’m sorry. You have years of experience, and you graduated with good grades but we won’t consider you a chef until you have an agent. The agent must have negotiated a deal with one of the big five restaurant chains that we consider legitimate producers of approved meals. And sure, you could be one of those chefs that starts their own restaurant and produces imaginative and innovative meals but we all know you wouldn’t be a real chef.”

Or a band producing their own music and loading their songs to iTunes and Spotify. “Well, you know, they’re not real musicians. Self-producing their own music is proof of that.” Or some poor actor. “Well, sure you worked on Broadway but we only consider you a legitimate actor if you’ve got an agent and you were in a movie made by one of the top five directors.” I should qualify this by saying that an actor’s life is pretty tough but at the moment I don’t think actors are stopped from auditioning on the ground they’re not ‘legitimate’ because they’ve never worked with Steven Spielberg.

Anyway, the pointless task of querying agents will continue for a few months at least. I’m just not sure I have the patience to wait around for an approval e-mail that somehow legitimizes me as a writer.

MVP (Minimum Viable Product) and why you should worry about it

 I work in the IT industry and a phrase I hear time and time again is, “we just need to deliver the MVP.” MVP stands for minimum viable product. The software industry has a long and proud past of failing to delivery anything, or delivering something that the customer didn’t want. This is normally because the customer asked for things that he or she thought he or she wanted but didn’t, much like a three-year-old getting to eat ice cream all day long and crying when they wind up with tooth decay and multiple visits to the dentist. One of the cures for the industry’s unique ability to charge millions of dollars for failure has been the MVP. This makes perfect sense when the customer is going to change their minds anyway, and, like a toddler, they want everything now. The MVP gives a customer something that mostly works and then makes changes based on their complaints about using the product in real life.

Sadly, there now seems to be a crossover occurring between the software industry and fiction writing. Software industry workers who’ve charged off to make their millions in self-publishing have turned the technique to writing. So, rather than trying to deliver they best book they can, they deliver a MVP. They write the book quickly, get it on Amazon, wait for reviews before changing it. Or they use the feedback for their next book. Or, they release as rapidly as possible, and wait for someone to volunteer to edit the book for free.

They’re all about, “hacking the process.” They’re about producing quantity, not quality. Because, as per software development, quality doesn’t matter. You just need something that kind of works. It’s also becomes all about quantity so the author doesn’t drop off the Amazon Thirty Day Cliff of Despair everyone keeps talking about. By keeping themselves in the thirty-day zone, they use Amazon to sell more books. Worse, Amazon’s algorithms encourage the behavior. Amazon wants product as fast as the can get it, and as much as they can get. But this need for product creates a feedback loop where an independent author can’t write at a considered pace because suddenly six months is too slow. There are (apparently), unicorn authors out there churning out a novel every four weeks.

I’m not knocking authors that can produce books as fast as their fingers can type. More power to them. But I have to wonder where the reader fits into this. Is the new norm that readers accept a novel riddled with spelling and grammar errors and if they want a higher quality book, they offer to fix it for the author?

In my humble opinion, a deliberate by-passing of quality seems like the ultimate slap in the face. Here’s this book that sort of works, but the author has decided they don’t want to invest any more time or energy into it until enough people have coughed up the money to pay for the fixes.

It’s an attitude that’s prevalent in the software industry but doesn’t (and shouldn’t) be made to work anywhere else. Imagine paying to see a movie where it was roughly edited, with no soundtrack, and zero special effects but at the end of the movie you had the choice to give notes to the director and then they're- released the movie with a different title (because it’s part of a trilogy) and asked you to pay to see that version as well. It would be insane.

Seeing the bat-shit methodologies of the IT world translated into the world of fiction writing breaks my heart. I don’t want to be around people who regard book writing as an ‘iterative process’ that can be ‘hacked’ so ‘whales’ (a term for people prepared to dish out a lot of cash for a product/service) can pay them loads of money.

It seems inherently wrong, but because I work in the industry I know the battle is already lost. Techniques and methodologies and data analysis will be blithely applied to anything that can make money.

Ten years from now (or less) I predict those same newly rich indie software coders/authors will have figured out how to code AI that can write a sort-of-okay novel faster than any human. And you, dear reader, will be drowning in a sea of MVP novels written on the fly by AI churning out books every 15-minutes, based on whatever genre/topic is making the most amount of money that hour.

God help us all.

The Problem of Thinky Day Jobs and Writing

 Let’s face it–most of us in the Land of Creativity need to hold down a day job. We’ve got bills to pay, groceries to buy, and the landlord doesn’t care we that we can’t pay the rent. (And the bank doesn’t care that we couldn’t pay the mortgage.) Daily living translates into a need to be a responsible adult. Apart from the need to earn money, there are also the other regular tasks such as laundry, housework, lawn mowing, gardening and home maintenance (if you own your own home). Being an adult means devoting time to pursuits that are in the Land of the Mundane.

This article from Slate talks about writers that have effectively managed to hold down a day job, raise children and still found time to write–and some that did not. There’s a nice quote in the article, “Any artist who can make up his mind to spend three-quarters of his life being an insurance man and another quarter being an artist is a pretty unique compromise. It is not often done. It is a very difficult thing to maintain the equilibrium, and I think that he fell off it. He couldn’t maintain it after a while.”

Not all creatives manage to put together a schedule and stick to it. (As is often the advice from other creatives.)

Part of the issue seems to be that most careers, professions and jobs of the 21st century demand that our brains spends hours solving an endless litany of problems. Stuck in problem solving mode, our brains don’t know when to stop. At two in the morning it wakes us up to announce that a particular business problem can be solved by reading this document, contacting that person, or writing an email.

Is it any wonder that thoughts about plots, characters and a third draft of the book are driven away? Writing and other creative tasks also happen to be about problem solving and asking the brain to multi-task on multiple problems drains any spare capacity like an off-grid house trying to cope with a lack of solar power in the middle of winter. It’s overcast, and wishing its sunny won’t make the batteries charge any faster.

I’m not convinced we’re asking the right question as creatives. It’s not about schedules or procrastination. I think the question we’re actually asking is: how do we train our brains to compartmentalize our lives? (That is; I only think about work during working hours, I think about my children as much as as I need to, and when I’m writing I only think about writing.)

I don’t have the answer, but I’d like to find it. And if I do, I’ll write a follow up post. In the interim, let’s stop blaming ourselves because another day went by where we didn’t write 500 words, or edit another chapter of the book. We assume that the journey from the Land of the Mundane to the Land of Creativity is a gentle stroll across a meadow–maybe we should assume it’s like battling our way through an army of Orcs instead. And doing that on a regular basis is exhausting...

How to tell if you are in a high fantasy novel

Chris Brecheen posted this on his Facebook page, Writing about Writing, and never have truer words been typed. The original post by Mallory Ortberg is here, over at The Toast.

And now, without further delay... Here’s Mallory’s timeless advice on how you tell if you are in a high fantasy novel.

• The Elders would like a word with you.
• The Ritual is about to begin.
• Something that has not happened in a thousand years is happening.
• You are going to the City. There is only one City. It is only said with a capital C. No one needs to bother saying the name of the City. It is the City.
• Certain members of the Council are displeased with your family’s recent actions.
• A bard is providing occasional comic relief; no one hired or invited him and his method of earning a living is unclear.
• The High Priest is not to be trusted.
• Someone is eating an apple mockingly.
• There is one body of water. It is called the Sea. The Great Sea, if you are feeling fancy.
• You live in a region with no major exports, no centralized government, no banking system, a mysteriously maintained network of roads, and little to no job training for anyone who is not a farmer.
• You have red hair. You wear it in a braid. Your father was a simple man, and you don’t remember much about him – he died when you were so young – but you remember his strong hands, as he fished or carpentered or whatever it was that he used to do with them.
• You’re going to have to hurry, or you’re going to miss the Fair– and you never miss the Fair.
• There is trouble at the Citadel.
• Your full name has at least one apostrophe in it.
• It is the first page, and you are already late for something.
• Your mother affectionately chides you as you gulp down a few spoonfuls of porridge; she will be dead by page forty-two.
• There are two religions in your entire universe. One is a thinly veiled version of Islam. It is only practiced by villains. The other is “being a Viking.” You are a Viking.
• There are new ways in the land that threaten the Old Way.
• Your grandmother secretly practices the Old Way, as do all of the people of the hills.
• The real trouble began the day you arrived at court. Every last nobleman hides a viper in his smile. How you long for the purity of life in your village, which is currently on fire or something.

Inspirational writing advice from Charlie Kaufman

Charlie Kaufman gave a lecture back in 2011 emphasizing that the priority of a writer is writing first, and marketing second. Unfortunately these days it’s all about marketing first, and writing second. In a world drowning in self published books, we’re forced into marketing and branding in the vain hope of building an audience. Indie authors know only too well the pain of being told that apart from delivering a novel (a Herculean task), we need to worry about social media platforms, growing a mailing list, maintaining blogs, and targeting the correct audience with the correct genre. Only then will we make boatloads of cash and be able to quit our day jobs. Oh, and if you’re a published author, congratulations, but you’ll still have to market your book because the publisher won’t do it for you.

It’s a peculiar aspect of our time when an author is forced to have a secondary career as a marketing expert.

Mr. Orwell

“Mr. Orwell must have wasted a lot of energy trying to be a novelist. I think I must have read three or four novels by him and the only impression these dreary books left on me was that nature didn’t intend him to be a novelist.”

Q.D. Leavis, 1940

The Writer's Reaction to Their Manuscript (In Pictures)

 

I can’t believe I wrote a

whole book! It’s SO big. It’s

like, a whole ream of paper.

I’m so awesome.

Hmmmm... This manuscript is

really big. I’ve got a bit of work ahead of me.

Oh God. What have I done?

A Post for Creative Types (When Confronted by Their Terrible First Draft)

 

How to be a Writer

 Hhahahahahahahahahahhaa. Also, feel free to substitute the word ‘drink’ with other words. Like ‘eat’ or ‘smoke’. Or both.

https://theoatmeal.com/comics/writer

A Writer and Three Script Editors Walk Into a Bar

 Writing a novel is hard work. It can also be lonely and frustrating work.

Then again, an author has total control over his, or her, characters and plot. Unlike this guy...

Jerry Seinfeld: How to Write a Joke

 

Hugh Howey Says Some Encouraging Things about Fan Fiction and Self Publishing

 

The Darkness of Shirley Jackson

 An excellent article from The Atlantic about the author, Shirley Jackson.

Haunted Womanhood

The Book of My Enemy Has Been Remaindered

 Many years ago, Clive James wrote a poem expressing his joy at realizing a fellow author’s book wasn’t selling. (Schadenfreude, anyone?) If you haven’t read it, you should, for it’s quite rightly one of his most liked, and well known poems.

The Book of my enemy has been remaindered

And I am pleased.

In vast quantities it has been remaindered.

Like a van-load of counterfeit that has been seized

And sits in piles in a police warehouse,

My enemy’s much-praised efforts sits in piles

In the kind of bookshop where remaindering occurs.

Great, square stacks of rejected books and, between them, aisles

One passes down reflecting on life’s vanities,

Pausing to remember all those thoughtful reviews

Lavished to no avail upone one’s enemy’s book –

For behold, here is that book

Among these ranks and banks of duds,

These ponderous and seemingly irreducible cairns

Of complete stiffs.

The Books Machine – Reading by Telepathy

On the 16th of September I received a flattering e-mail from  Meryl, who works for a website called ‘The Books Machine’. Her e-mail informed me that, “The Books Machine is a website that connects authors and readers. It helps writers promote their work, gain in reputation and prestige, and reach a potential audience.”

It also said, “I have recently come across your book Bootleg on Amazon and due to both its quality and plot, it qualifies to be promoted in our community of readers.”

There’s just one teeny tiny problem with Meryl’s pitch. Bootleg is only available on Kindle and my sales reports from KDP informed me (much to my despair), that Bootleg has sold precisely zero copies since July. KENP Read pages were flat as a pancake as well. And I hadn’t run a campaign for freebies since 2015.

Which does raise the interesting question of how Meryl from ‘The Books Machine’ managed to read Bootleg and decide it was awesome in both quality and plot.

Here are some possibilities that spring to mind...

• She read a copy over the shoulder of a coworker – who downloaded a freebie back in 2015.
• She read it over the shoulder of someone she was sitting next to on a bus or a train – who downloaded a freebie back in 2015.
• She borrowed someone’s Kindle or iPad – who downloaded a freebie back in 2015.
• She read the reviews and decided she didn’t need to actually read the story.
• Telepathy.

I’m going with ‘telepathy’. Mainly because that implies an exciting super power and that one day Meryl will reveal her secret identity and that she will only use her power for good. And I’ll be able to proudly say, “Hey, she sent me an e-mail about how awesome my short story was!”

That Time I Decided to be a SF Writer but Only Wrote Stories About Mayhem

I read a lot of science fiction when I was growing up. I worshiped at the feet of titans such as Kurt Vonnegut, Ray Bradbury, Arthur C. Clarke and Isaac Asimov. I also watched a lot of Star Trek, Dr. Who, Star Wars (over and over again) and whatever else might contain some sci-fi element. After many years of churning out fan fiction associated with various SF franchises it seemed only natural that when I took the leap of faith to start writing original fiction, it’d be science fiction.

I plotted out the first big book of my trilogy, wrote two shitty drafts, and re-plotted. Nothing was working. Frustrated at how hard it was to define my protagonist (he remained an enigma wrapped in a psychological mystery), I took a break and wrote the short stories I’d had in my head for over a decade. I wrote three. Then kept writing until I suddenly had enough for a book.

The stories were about perfectly ordinary (and not so ordinary) people doing perfectly horrible things. People setting out with the best of intentions and accidentally killing someone. People getting their comeuppance compliments of despicable characters. People being surprised when karma comes back and bites them on their ass.

At which point (after binge watching Hannibal) I had the feeling that maybe I was supposed to be writing thrillers. Because those short stories about mayhem and revenge were a lot more entertaining to write. I didn’t struggle with the characters, or their motivation. Disturbingly, the plots weren’t much of a struggle either.

I have an idea for a book that’s a dystopian thriller and unlike my pure SF story I can see the characters (and plot) fully formed in my head.

I guess this means it’s time to accept my tastes may have changed and it it might be time for a little genre swapping...