Hello Quad-Cities...

For anyone in the Quad-Cities, listen into the Quad-Cities Forum this Sunday to hear me dribble on about nothing...and the book. Today I was interviewed by legendary Q-C newsman Phil Roberts of the Quad-Cities Radio Group. But, for those of you outside the Q-C, you can download and listen after it airs on www.woc1420.com It will be under the podcast links.

The interview will air Sunday:
6 a.m. - WOC 1420 AM
7 a.m. - KMXG 96.1 FM
7:30 a.m. - WLLR 103.7 FM
11:30 p.m. - KCQQ 106.5 FM
11:30 p.m. - KUUL 101.3 FM

More Amazon.com fun

So there's this cool thing Amazon does that compares a book to other things readers have purchased. So, if someone buys my book and another one, it links them together. So, according to those buying, my novel has been comparable to the reading habits of those who love great, great authors. Some of those include:

- Chuck Palahniuk (Fight Club)
- Kurt Vonnegut
- Joseph Heller (Catch-22)
- J.D. Salinger
- Anthony Burgess (A Clockwork Orange)
- Aldous Huxley (Brave New World)
- Jack Kerouac (On the Road)
- George Orwell
- Ernest Hemingway

To even think people would link those books with mine is the greatest compliment anyone could pay to me. Talk about making my day.

Virginia Tech

At least 33 people were killed today in a shooting on the Virginia Tech campus. One gunman. Nearly 60 dead or injured. Then he killed himself.

Even after writing a book about suicide and college, I don't think I'll ever understand a situation like this. For once in a long time, news shocked me.

At one point I was thinking about pulling the book while this whole thing is settled. It felt like those NRA assholes who have gun rallies in towns after shootings. (Remember Charleton Heston in Columbine the next week?)

In the book, I make references to the "sniper in a belltower" massacre in 1966 at the University of Texas at Austin. I talk about people killing themselves over a girlfriend. I talk about suicide by cop and taking other people out, too. (To clarify, I adimantly oppose all such things.)

I've even been researching workplace shootings for my next novel.

Instead, the book will go on while everything with VT is sorted out. Until then, keep the college kids who did nothing but go to class in your thoughts and prayers. May the devil have fun roasting the bastard that did it.

One last time...

So I've read my book twice in the last month. Once for plot, the second time for tedious errors. I still don't think I have any idea how to use the English language. But that's not the problem.

There seems to be something going on with everything. There's a certain hardcore element to the book. There are parts of it that I wrote in college. Un-edited journal entries that I'm going to send out into the world. They were my babies back then -- writing things down and I thought I had them taken care of. Then, reading them again, meticulously, I realized little has changed in me from when I'd spend hours writing away at what was going on in my head.

In one way, it's refreshing. Despite a new major, a college degree and three years working, I still am the same person on the inside.

In the other way, it's completely terrifying. I've realized that all of my personal problems still linger, despite the fact I thought I had them taken care of. It's not even close to that.

So, those of you that knew me from WSU, know that what you'll be reading is what I'm still going through. Those of you that didn't know me then, know that I share more with my characters than what I thought.

Still, knowing that life will never be perfect and the chance to explore it is amazingly beautiful, this is where I'm very happy to say I am. I'm very happy to say I was.

I'm glad, now, that I know the difference.

Sales good, promotions bad

Online sales on Amazon have been going well, but if you haven't pre-ordered, don't be shy and get on there. The book's going to be sent for proof next week. That means I'll be able to hold my baby in my hands and examine it for every imperfection. It's just like being a real parent.

But, in the real of all that is self-publishing, I can guarantee one thing -- promoting yourself sucks. I have to go around and tell people how great I am and why they should buy my book. Seriously, I know arrogance would run high on my personality trait list, but even this is a bit much for me.

So, to ease my I-feel-like-a-whore pains, tell as many people as you can. Link the image of the cover to your MySpace page. Send some e-mails. Anything would help.

Seriously, I'm just a writer, not a PR flak.

Who loves ya'?

It's impossible for me to thank everyone who has already ordered. The book went from number 70,000 thousand in ranking on Amazon to hovering around the 13,000 mark -- in one day! I know it's not Harry Potter level, but for a first-time self-publisher who hasn't even started real promotion yet, I'll take it.

Shoppers include friends, sources, skaters, drinkers, school buddies, co-workers and everyone in between. Seriously, without you guys and gals I'd be nothing buy a boring kid with no stories to tell and a lot of extra books laying around. Well, not like they're even printed yet.

Anyway, I appreciate everything.

A Constant Suicide on Amazon.com!

Order, order, order!

The book's available for pre-order on Amazon.com. The more pre-orders I get, the better play it will get on the site, so don't hesitate to buy 100 copies. Whoever wants an autographed copy, order it and I'll sign it the next time I see you. I might just make a special trip for it.

Use the link to the right.

Special thanks go to my long-time friend Travis Hulce for noticing -- before I did -- that the page was up. Check out his blog on his adventures in writing on the links section to the right.

RELEASE DATE

There's still work to go, but A Constant Suicide will be released on May 15. It will be available for pre-order on Amazon before that, but keep coming back for updates.

Update

Besides cranking out more on the book, I've done some more business aspects. I've looked into publicity materials -- which all my faithful blogettes will get tons of -- and where to sell it.

While I'm shooting for a May 1 release date (and I say shooting like a second gunman), you'll be able to pre-order the book soon on Amazon.com. It'll be the primary place, but I'm also checking out Barnes & Noble, Yahoo! and other places, along with local book shops and copies I'll be donating to local libraries.

So, stay tuned and I'll be able to tell you when you can put some money down.

On motivation...

A cardinal just flew right by me outside. The bird landed in a tree above my head and chirped noisily at me. It wanted to make sure I knew it was there. Since I was born, I've always associated a red cardinal with my grandmother. A watchful woman, she died a long, painful death at the hands of cancer while I was in college. Before she died, she told me, "I heard you're shaping up." I believe that bird I just saw was her, looking at me, letting me know she was watching over me.

Last week I had a conversation with a good friend and fellow writer, Barb. We both planned on having a writers' night, but it turned to beer and talking. We talked about what motivated us, not just in writing, but in life. I told her about my belief that I must do something with my life because of my ancestors. No longer are humans needed to procreate to sustain its own species, but rather one generation makes sacrifices so the next may flourish.

That's my life. My grandparents worked hard to provide my parents with a better life. The same went for my parents and myself. I am afforded luxuries right now not because of my work, but because of those who have worked before me.

Barb said I shouldn't look at it as though I should work to impress my family or those I considered such. I said that wasn't my motivation. I wanted to do the most with my life to make the sacrifices of those who departed before me not lost in vain. I refuse to become nothing because of how much my great-grandparents, my grandparents and my family toiled.

Another friend, a psychic, once told me some writers are believed to have channels from the dead. It's as if the deceased are a direct pipeline of inspiration and motivation.

I spent the majority of the day writing on the novel, working further on getting this thing done. Then a cardinal visited me and told me someone was and is watching.

As V said, "I, like God, do not play with dice and do not believe in coincidence."

Randomness

It's only three days away from when I wanted to have the book published. I figured since I had it done in November, I could easily have it done by March. Why not? I mean, c'mon, I've done this before. Nope.

Sorry kids, but it's going to take a few more months. It would be worse off to crank out a piece of crap, when I can refine it into a nice gleaming turd.

Still, I'm elbow deep in my story, digging through like removing innards on a cadaver.

I can feel the heart. It's the story itself. The things I want to say. It beats.

The lungs move slowly, almost like they're drowning. It's my words. Using the right language that my narrator, a sophomore in college would use. Too often, he's speaking in ways only academics do. The unncessary weight is making it hard for my story to breathe.

The liver is hard. Too much getting drunk on what's not important. A scene is cut, dialogue is completely removed. I laugh at myself, thinking, "When did I actually think this part was good?"

My delete key is the scalpel. Still, I go through cutting out the stored fat that keeps my story from being alive and healthy. Soon I'll have to pack everthing back inside, sew it up and throw a nice suit on it. It will be time to show my Frankenstein off.

Another cover idea

Here's another try from Mr. Shawn Eldridge. We're going to tinker with it, but it's a whole new approach. Let me know what you think.

RTP Logo

Did you ever want to look into the future? Did you ever want a glimpse at what would become of the world as we all know it?
Here you go.



The logo was designed by the gracious hands of Brandon "Brando" Price -- graphic designer, newspaper publisher, owner of Murphy, and all around rockabilly all star.

Cover Mockup

Here's an idea for the cover. Please leave your thoughts on it.



It's designed by Shawn Eldridge. Those of you in the Quad-Cities might recognize his regular work from The River Cities' Reader.

A severed finger, a rubber chicken and CDs

So I opened my mail yesterday to find a severed finger in a box. Metallic confetti fell as I pulled the bloody digit out and twisted it in my hand.

I couldn't help but laugh.

In October, I wrote to my favorite novelist Chuck Palahniuk (Paula-nick). I had asked for advice on character development, being a reporter and other such crap. I wasn't expecting anything back. But Monday, there on my steps with the change of address covering who it was from, was a box the size of an ice cream carton.

Inside was a rubber chicken that if you squeezed it an egg would pop from its butt. An a rubber severed finger. And Chinese noise makers, an "It's a boy" gum cigar, temporary tattoos, a used pocket knife, a plastic carrot and other novelty crap.

He also included a few pieces of signed memorbelia and some CDs of him reading his work. My favorite was my "power raccoon." He's the guy that wrote Fight Club, so remember the scene with the power animal and the penguin telling the narrator to slide.

The letter truely was personalized, answering questions and telling me to stick with reporting because it was where the "BEST" novelists come from. (He himself holds a journalism degree.)

The fact that he spent all of that time piecing together this box of "sounds, colors and tastes," as he put it, showed how greatful he was for me writing to him and reading his work.

That gives me something to shoot for in terms of gratitude.

The hemrroid of the creative process

The rewrite is done. That's right, done.

In the world of novel writing, the rewrite is the root canal. It's the hemmoroid clinging to the creative process.

It's all about solidifying story plots and ironing out the details that make the book flow. It's making sure people can understand a character and get inside his/her head. As to quote Sean Connery in Finding Forrester, "You write the first draft with your head. The second draft comes from the heart," or something like that.

A Constant Suicide, as it stands, says what I want it to say. I think it works, but it's up to my editor, Seinor Aiden Landman, to tell me if it's all crap or not. I hope to get the 250-page manuscript into his hands by the end of the day.

I'll be reading it again as my editor is going through it. Plus, I have to file tax paperwork with the state for Rock Town Press, look over the cover for the book, get my headshots taken for the back cover, order ISBN numbers, register it with the Library of Congress, etc.

Don't worry, it's not like I'm going to be bored. I do have two jobs otherwise. Speaking of, I should probably get back to them.

Again, thanks everyone for the words of encouragement and the future money you'll spend buying this thing.

(Getting three copies of the damned thing printed and "cheaply" bound cost me $50! Jebus!)

The worst things are coming...

When mom or dad told you, "Finish what you start," they were right.

I've done one of the worst things a writer can do. Tied up somewhere in the sequence of events, I opened a new Word document and started typing.

"Enriquetta wasn't supposed to get shot."

And everything flowed from there. I've had the idea for my next book since I started my first. Finish what you start. At one point during the ramblings that are my next project, I wanted to scrap the first one and just start anew.

Some of the new stuff is pretty funny. Let's just say the line, "If you needed a DNA sample from Dan, just ask Tucker to spit," was part of it. And no, it's not the Dan you're all thinking of. Remember: The names have been changed to protect the guilty.

So I wanted to scrap "A Constant Suicide." Then I remembered why I was writing my first one. For all the First Prentiss and honorary FP. It's a collection of our good times and bad. There's a message in there I need to say.

So, as all I want to do is throw everything away and start a new project, I have to force myself to keep going. But for now, it's Saturday and I'm at the paper, finishing something I didn't get done last week.

Wow. I'm cool.

On salvation

Writing this keeps me thinking about salvation. Finding what we're looking for in life, what's best for us, etc.

My narrator finds salvation in someone who will later kill himself. Hence, "We create our saviors."

But, as I've come to think about a lot lately, is it possible to save ourselves? Is there a way to avoid all outside sources to find true happiness in ourselves? Is there anyone out there that doesn't count on anything -- work, a significant other, drugs, alcohol - to find moments of bliss?

Some would say yes. Others would say no. I say we all have some kind of dependence.

Then self-actualization comes into play. Growing instead of destroying. Taking care of lower needs and then proceeding to higher ones. Those reaching self-actualization show some certain points:
• They embrace reality and facts rather than denying truth
• They are spontaneous
• They are interested in solving problems which may include personal problems or the emotional conflicts of others
• They are accepting of themselves and others and lack prejudice

But I don't think anyone can reach these on their own. You have to find what drives you, whether in relationships with others or yourself, and then move up from there.

Whatever. That's just what's going on in my gourd right now.

Movin' on down, to the east side...

Writer's need inspiration. They needed muses.

To quote V for Vendetta, "Artists use lies to tell the truth."

The best writers use their own lives to create worlds based in fact, but surrounded by fiction. I've read some books where you can tell the author never took a chance in their life and just sat around being safe all of the time. A good book is an adventure. Writers must take them to write them.

So, for that and other reasons, my latest adventure -- and a long overdue one -- is one in housing. I'm moving to one of the less-than-favorable neighborhoods in Davenport. Two blocks away there was a drive-by in August that killed a teenage girl (see earlier posts about fight in courthouse). Gun shots ring out on a nearly regular basis. My neighbors are crack dealers.

It is a far cry away from the safety that is Wisconsin Rapids or Winona.

And there's that question: Why?

I would like to say rent. I would like to say it's right next to SkateChurch. Both are true, but neither are.

I could just go scamper off to the suburbs, buy a house and live in peace and quiet. All I would have to worry about was keeping my grass cut the right length and making sure my truck was always clean. But, what would that teach me about life that I don't already know?

Let's face it. I'm young and stupid. Living in the 'hood is a bad idea. With every chance I take in life, my comfort level increases. Then I have to jump out again and push the boundaries. Soon everything will feel comfortable.

It's seeing a part of life I've only been exposed to in short doses or through courtroom testimony. Eyewitness is the best.

New Year's promises

Tonight millions of people will start out their resolutions. It’s the common belief that as the clock hits midnight tonight, a clean slate will be put forth in front of everyone. We believe it’s a chance to start over.

Well, that’s all bullshit.

Anything I do today doesn’t automatically get dismissed because we start using new calendars. Everything we do, whether positive or negative, is carried with us each day. There’s no clean slate. We got one at birth. That’s the only time we get one.

So, instead of pledging to quit smoking or drop 20 pounds, I pledge to anyone reading to CONTINUE to do things I’ve been striving for since my last New Year’s resolution two years ago: Be the best person I can.

I pledge to continue to make a life for myself that I choose. I pledge to not let any criticism, negativity or personal vendettas against me stand in my way.

I promise to strive to attempt to make my friends and family proud, the way they all do every day. As my friends and I age past out college years, we marry. Our children get older. Every single one of you make me so proud that I once was able to just sit around and slam beers when we could have been doing something more productive. No time was wasted doing it.

I promise to publish my first novel by my 26th birthday. I promise to start working on my second one immediately afterwards. I’m too young to just be sitting around anymore.

I promise to continue to give back to those who have invested time and energy to keeping me out of jail. I promise to come and visit more often. I promise to put you all before work.

Anyone who knows me knows that I never use the word promise unless I guarantee I can do it. Notice how many times I used the word in this entry.

To all my family, friends or anyone else reading this, these are not resolutions. These are promises.