Over the years(!) since I started this blog, I’ve come to the conclusion that writing about writing is a bit pretentious unless handled with care.

About the only thing of value I find anymore is a check-in for my blog harem (tee hee). My current work in progress is this. What’s next is that.

Why is that? I’ve wondered why those posts are popular, when others are not.

My theory: it’s because of action. I’m talking about things I did, or things I am just about to do.

So what am I doing?

I’m writing. I’ve gotten this contract under control (finally!) and have spent the entire weekend writing in a novel called Death By Lingerie. It’s a Lexus Toulouse murder mystery, and it’s shaping up to be a dozy. Poor Lexus gets in trouble. She gets in a lot of trouble. And to find herself again she has to go to places she isn’t supposed to go to. Do things that she never should do.

Never has crazy been so much fun to write! It’s science fiction just the way I want it.

Damn, I love being a novelist.

A quick drive by to say Im on a new contract. You know the drill—posting light as I come up to speed on the piles of work that need to be done.

Cause you all don’t want my actual writing to suffer, right? Right!

Ten random factoids about Anthony:

1. I have bad eyes that surgeons repaired over the course of three eye operations. I am thankful it worked, but there are some of my childhood I can’t remember, at all, because of not being able to see and being in pain. With glasses, my eyes are fine now.

2. My first kiss was at a Girl Scout dance. I was a Boy Scout. The cute girl I danced with had no intention of talking. She dragged me to a dark corner and smooched me. Ho-Boy, that was awesome. When I asked for her name, she responded with more smooches. I never saw her again.

3. I took ten years of wine classes, and then developed an allergy to about 90% if the wine on the market. That sucked.

4. I met my wife at work. She was the cutie-pie new hire playing volleyball. She introduced me to her friend saying we should go out. About six months of this everyone realized all the wrong people were going out with the wrong people. And here we are.

5. After my parents divorced when I was a teen, I was homeless for a while. That really sucked.

6. I watched Mt. St. Helens blow up from 28 miles away. We were so close, the sound wave went over our heads and I only heard it after it had circled the Earth. I got sick from the over-pressurization. That really sucked too. I still have nightmares, sometimes.

7. I have a speech problem and an associated learning disability. I spent a long time in therapy, which corrected most of the problems. In many ways, English is like a second language to me.

8. My love of books came from Victoria, my first girlfriend. I was an avid reader before then, but Victoria introduced me to so many good books, it was awesome.

9. I grew up in Battle Ground, WA, named for a battle that never took place. That still cracks me up.

10. I lived in India for six weeks. Other than the getting sick part, it was awesome.

The Rehabilitated Hack Writer Presents: 2011!

(TRUMPETS)

These posts crack me up because they inadvertently become popular with my blog harem and my other 30.7 readers. I’m like… a guy. Who writes… or something. Perhaps everyone loves my dry, sarcastic wit. Or maybe you’re all expecting me to trip over myself. Or perhaps see this post:

The Wife Unit here. I’m sorry, my husband won’t be blogging any more. He made one snarky comment too many and I brained him with a stainless steel Kitchen-Aid sauce pan. No worries, the pan is okay. The DH, however, needs some time to recover.

Admit it you could totally see that.

But I digress. To talk about 2011, let’s go back to 2010.

Somewhere in 2010 I posted a bunch of story ideas. I was really reaching for some direction. Which story appealed to me? Which one could you see me writing?

2011 I figured all that out. Mainly through the mind-clarification process of editing. Here’s the smattering of stories I was considering:

• That book in which stuff blows up in space
• An epic fantasy novel book about dragons and singing
• A book about high school cheerleaders from Utah battling space zombies (you know you want to read it)
• Death by Decades: every ten years someone tries to kill the main character
• The Baby Dancers: A YA novel about two brothers who travel across the Endless Void to rescue a baby

What I Learned

We’ll in 2011, here’s what I learned:

I have a dozen dozen ideas in my head. And none of them matter if, when I sit down and write, the voicing is not there. I can tell if the writing has a proper voice.

Holy crap. I can see the voicing.

It’s as if I’ve climbed a mountain, and found the Writing Guru, who then handed me the gift of a lifetime. It’s not that these ideas have bad plots, or maybe the main character is not interesting. I start a novel, and I can tell if the voicing is rocking the pages or if it’s stilted and flat. If it’s not there, I move on. I may have wasted 10,000 words. But I know. I know it down to my tosies.

I can’t begin to describe how liberating this is. It’s a ray of sunshine. Chorus of angles. A (REDACTED) with a (REDACTED) while (REDACTED).

Let me give you an example. I sent Super Cassie a plot idea and she about exploded in excitement, demanding the book in her mailbox.

I sat down and wrote two chapters. The plot is wonderful, and the main character is interesting, but the voice of the story is flat. It’s a literary sexless wonder, and I say that with total affection. I’ve put the manuscript aside.

So Tell Us About the Writing Already

Other than my voicing breakthrough, I wrote two books.

One was Stuff Blowing Up in Space. The book needs another revision, but I have plans for this novel, oh yes I do. It’s creative and fun. It’s sexy and the story arc is epic. EPIC I TELL YOU.

The other book was The Lightning Giver.

And ho-boy (ho-boy being a technical term) what a novel The Lightning Giver is. I have a manuscript that, based on my beta readers reactions, is not so much a YA novel as it Weapon of Emotional Mass Destruction.

It scares me. It really does. I’m not sure I can handle making so many people cry.

I have yet to have The Wife Unit read that one, by the way. It will push all her buttons and I don’t really want her to chase me around the house with a Kitchen-Aid pan.

I’m querying it anyway. If it doesn’t bite, I’ll move on. Because that is what I do. Which leads me to…

2012: I’m Still a Relentless, Productive Little Snot

What’s next? Besides querying my latest widely, I have a variety of things whispering to me:

• That Baby Dancer book
• That Dragonsong book
• Some henceforth untitled book about a teen boy breaking into Hell to rescue the girl of his dreams
• A book about a starship pilot fighting for a dying race while trying to come to grips with his legacy
• Rat Princess, the aforementioned book Cassie wants in her mailbox
• A sci-fi idea that keeps bubbling up about a warrior poet or something like that
• Cheerleader zombie fighters!

It’s quite the diverse list. Which is good, Someone told me I should enjoy non-contract writing while I could. I believe that was wise advice. Which leads me to…

Self-Publishing: That Thing I Keep Getting Asked About

People ask me constantly if I am ever going to self-publish.

I don’t wanna!

There are many reasons, but here are three that stare me in the face:

• It will cost me about $3000 to self-publish a book. Yes. 3K. I have editorial standards. I have cover-art standards. Both of these things cost money.
• To do it right, it’s a time commitment.
• I am a social creature, a consultant by trade. I like to talk with people and work with other professionals. I am a professional’s professional. That’s what I do. Writing is already a solitary pursuit. Self-publishing to me sounds like a lonely, lonely road.

With that said, I’ve also been told point-blank to stop screwing around. That there was a market for my stuffs and keeping it locked away was simply delaying my back-list.

Okay. That appealed to my “Just Do It” and see what happens nature.

But I don’t know, folks. The positive thing about being unpublished is I’m “allowed” to explore different genres. I could self-publish something and then want to move in an entirely different direction. Yes, I know all about the use of pen names (don’t ask, you don’t want to know). I don’t have any enthusiasm for publishing a novel under a different name. That’s not me.

I don’t have a line in the sand about self-publishing, but I am leery about spending so much time doing something I might dislike immensely. I am a father and a husband and a writer with a full-time job that is intellectually challenging and satisfying. If ever there was someone who should pursue an agent for Team Anthony it would be me.

Then again, the publishing landscape keeps rolling around. eBooks have torn away from traditional publishing methodologies and the path to readership is divergent.

Color me undecided. Which leads me back to…

2012: I’m Still a Relentless, Productive Little Snot

By the end of 2012 I will have written two novels.

That, my friends, is a bit of the awesome.

Weeeeeee!

Oh, and leaving Facebook for a year? Best. Idea. Ever.

As the year ends, this has been an amazing journey for me as a writer. I’ve learned so much. I pulled up my very first novel and looked at it. It was as if another person wrote it. On drugs. With one hand. Upside down. There may have even been drool. Electronic drool. If my laptop could speak its mind, I think the words about that first book would have been “durp drup durp.”

There are things about me that I keep close to my heart. I’ve hinted here and there, and while I don’t keep secrets, I’ve also pointed out that sometimes knowledge is a burden. That wasn’t a hint to back off. It was an attempt not to contaminate you.

Yet, this year, that heart is heavy for many writers. In some ways, my empathy comes full circle. I know first hand that some journeys are steps where your own shadow is your only company. I’ve learned since joining the interweb tubes club that it’s best to simply offer a kind word. No one wants to hear that sorrows are relative even if that is the universal truth that lends perspective and change. These are things that simply don’t convey because I am not sitting across the table looking into your eyes and sharing your burdens.

So what does that have to do with writing?

Ah, you see my friends, writing is a skill for honing, practicing and developing. Writing from the depths of your core, however, requires something altogether different. This year, I not so much grew my writing talent as I’ve grown as a person. I’ve come to terms with some of my own little slices of bleak.

Sometimes, understanding is a block.

Don’t come to grips with whatever.

Write it out.

Don’t delve deep into the mind of your own psyche.

Write it out.

Don’t reach out for empathy and a sympathetic ear.

Write it out.

Write it out. Write it out. Write it out. This is what flows in our blood. This is who we are. The blank page deserves honesty. If, at the end of the last page of the last chapter, you’ve bled and cried, then so be it.

Sometimes the only connection is the literary connection. The void, sometimes, can only be filled with words.

Me, me, meeeeeee.

One of those posts.

Just a short note to my 37.4 blog readers that I have picked up a new contract. As a consultant, it’s important for me to make sure I engage the client properly and the project is off to a good start.

This means I feel tired when I come home. The poor blog suffers as a consequence.

Now, behold! I ramble!

The general rule with consultants in any given field where businesses hires one to make improvements or fix problems, is that you make money when the economy is good, and you make money when the economy goes bad.

Right now, the economy is bad. When I engage clients, it is important for me that the end result is the client is not only happy, but they can get a breather because things are better.

When things don’t get better, bad things happen.

Someone loses their job. Sometimes it’s more than one person.

Let’s say that person used to buy coffee every day at the coffee shop down stairs.

He’s not the first to go, and the coffee shop feels the pinch.

They let a barista go. It was her only source of income while going to school. She loved that new job, and now it’s gone.

She goes home. She’s never been “laid off.” To her, the boss fired her. It sinks in that she’s going to have to go and live with her parents.

She sits on her loveseat and cries.

The laid off man has technical skills, and he probably can find a job even in this economy.

At a 20% pay cut.

When he is all alone, the wife playing Bunko, the kids are asleep upstairs, he feels like crying, too.

Where am I going with this? Other than being a major downer, that is.

I’m tired when I come home from putting the brain in overdrive. The blog falls off to the side.

And that, my 37.4 blog readers, is a good thing.

MAN COLD. I haz it.

Serves either 4 (couple and two growing boys) or 6 adults. Yes, I really am this awesome.

Surf

Wild Alaskan King Salmon (1.75 to 2 pound)
Kosher salt
Fresh ground pepper
Lemon Juice

Cook in 400 F oven until done. Use no other seasonings. If you do, turn in your PNW Native card and move back east with the rest of the unwashed heathens.

Turf

Baked Garlic Chicken
Chicken (with skin) thighs and drumsticks
Season Salt
Old Bay spice
Garlic Powder

Spice the chicken. Cook uncovered in 425 oven for 33 minutes, then set oven 400 F and put salmon in. Salmon and chicken will be done at the same time.

Comfort Food

Pan fried oysters
Medium or large oysters (2 jars or shucked)
½ cup Italian herb breadcrumbs
½ cup flour

Pat dry the oysters with paper towels. Mix the flour and breadcrumbs. Coat the oysters. Do not seasons unless using  plain breadcrumbs. Fry in pan in canola oil at medium-high heat.

Salad

Seasonal Spinach Salad
Fresh apricots
Fresh raspberries
Fresh strawberries
2 avocados
Spinach
Candied walnuts
Crumbled blue cheese
Blue cheese dressing
Fresh ground pepper

Theoretically, this can be an entire meal. Mix ingredients in large salad bowl, except the avocado and blue cheese dressing, which is served on the side (most people decline to put dressing on this salad)

Bread

Rosemary round loaf
Sourdough round loaf

Serve with soft, unsalted butter

Wine

Serve with a very chided Louis Jadot Chardonnay or slightly chilled Pinot Noir

Cake!

Chocolate
Cream cheese chocolate frosting (various recipes)

Sometimes I come up with characters that resonate with me, but no plot. The characters sit around, probably sipping tea, coffee or some such, waiting for a plot to show up. When one does, I start writing.

Other times, I have a plot and no characters. There is no distinctive character voice(s) that draws me in to start writing.

At some point, I’m going to have a setting show up waiting for both a plot and characters.

Maybe, just maybe, if I have enough of this going on in my brain, they’ll get together and knock some socks off.

I’m hoping!

I have a specific, honed, editing process. When I finish a novel, I put that sucker aside and do something else for a few weeks.

Apparently, doing something else turned into write another book.

As my 37.3 readers (Google tells me I had more readers via my RSS feed than previously thought) know, I had these various characters, setting and a ton of world building love for a Space Opera novel I was calling Stuff Blowing Up in Space.

After I finished The Lightning Giver, a plot for SBUIS hit me like an exploding nova.

The plot was all I needed, and I completed the first draft last night. DONE.

People, I am officially OUT OF CONTROL. The novel needs a round of edits, but it’s far, far from me just barfing words out on the page. It’s wonderful Space Opera plot with mysterious and sexy aliens, hunky men, and, of course, stuff blowing up in space. Some cuts, some edits, some polishing and that sucker is ready for some query love.

I’ve titled the book The First Casualty of War and it stands alone but also works as the first book in a trilogy. Now I turn back to editing The Lightning Giver while recharging my creative batteries by reading a bunch of books sitting in my queue.

Below you will find the first draft of a query. It needs work, but I was somewhat surprised I could pull a draft query of a Space Opera book in 249 words.

Bad Day for a Shish Princess

Fleet Commodore Philip Connery thought nothing of giving a sish Huntress a ride to the ass-end of nowhere even knowing the mono-gendered sish used sexual attraction to feed on the blood of both enemy and friends. If the odd crewmember arrived paler than normal for his or hers shift, well, that was the price of doing business with the beautiful sish. The sish saved their humans allies in the last war. A ride was the least he could do.

The impromptu mission was going well until they encountered pirates deep in the sish core.

Sent by the Commodore to obtain reinforcements, Captain James Tilbrook was at the end of his options when the surprisingly young and beautiful sish Space Marshal of Aoe Station refused to believe his story.

So he shot her and tossed her into his ship. Now the entirety of Aoe’s forces is out for his blood. Literally.

Sish Princess Leiesha was feeling lonely and resenting her cruel mother, the Queen, when crazy Fleet humans shot and kidnapped her simply because she didn’t believe their stupid story about pirates. Humiliated and trapped on a Fleet warship with empathic humans, Leiesha realizes that far from committing a heinous crime, the humans have saved her life. Someone had poisoned her!

The Commodore, Huntress, Captain and Princess grapple with these random events, but eventually realize they aren’t random at all. Galactic war looms on event horizon and they must come together or perish separately.

Interested?