Writing Advice

I’m calling this post Writing Advice because I said on the About page that there would be no writing advice.

Some of the best writing advice I’ve ever had came in a rejection slip. I don’t know if it was intended as advice, but it worked. The Editor said she could see how much work and creativity had gone into the book. After I got over my initial disappointment, which included a lot of ‘What the hell does that mean?’ moments, I had another look at the manuscript and discovered it was so overwritten it could be fairly described as the work of someone desperate to prove they could write.

As I write this there’s one thing that comes back to me. The protagonist, Jack Higgins, is a burglar, and in one sentence I had written ‘To Jack, burglary was an art form, and those on whom he practiced his art…’ It goes on. When I read it out loud I couldn’t believe how bad it was. The idea was fine, the expression was terrible. It took a few rewrites before I arrived at ‘the victims of his art’, much better.

I went through the entire book like that, making the language as straightforward as possible without compromising the story. In some parts I cut whole sections. When I finished I had cut about twelve thousand words. I had also turned what was a run-of-the-mill thriller into what I’m told is a literary thriller, a term I’d never heard.

Unfortunately the finished book was too short for publishers. I didn’t mind that because indie publishing was by then a serious option, so I went that way. Now if I could just figure out how to market a book that’s written for the characters instead of the reader, I might actually sell a few copies!

That book is The Company of Thieves

Work in Progress

I thought it was about time I shared some of the work in progress. This is from chapter 10.

John opened the sitting room door to find Fats Waller on TV, singing about the spider and the fly. Mary, asleep on the couch, snored along. John stood in the doorway, watching her; feeling all of the life they had shared. He had seen her sleeping many times; he had seen her sick, happy, sad, fat; he held her hair back while she puked morning sickness into the toilet. But watching her this morning he was overwhelmed with joy that she was his; that even when they fought, and in the early days there had been many fights, fights where she had thrown him out, fights where he had thrown her out; even through that, there had been the quick knowledge of love, not showy but constant, and he marvelled now at how rich that love had made them.

Trial of the Living Dead

This is the story of how I came to write my first play.

A kid whose life revolves around dope and drink discovers theatre and begins to save himself.

From the book:

Del turned to me; she didn’t ask if I was a writer; she didn’t ask what I write; she just said ‘Ok, bring something in next week?’ So there I was, embarrassed, afraid, and unable to speak. I mumbled something and she got annoyed. I agreed to write a script for the following week.

Available here. $1.99

The Man who Thought he was Charles Bukowski

Book Cover

This is not quite the new one. It used to be called Drinking in the Park.

After years of trying to live like his favorite authors, an old man goes drinking in the park, and discovers that what he thought of as romantic was really just grubby

Ebook available here.