Four of my books–the Sean’s Saga trilogy and Robin Hood: Wolf’s Head are on sale for a mere 99 cents until September 15th. Head on over to the Based Book Sale and check some of the other authors out as well!
Read It Again, Sam
The highest compliment my writing has ever received came from a fellow author, regarding Robin Hood: Wolf’s Head. She said something to the effect that she was definitely going to keep it around and make sure to re-read it whenever she needed a dose of awesome Robin Hood adventure.
Though I haven’t heard this about any of my other books (yet), that’s what I’m always trying to do as an author: put enough into each book that readers will want to come back again to see what they might have missed, or just enjoy reliving the story.
When and if I’m able to succeed, it goes a long way toward resolving what I’ll call the Cook’s Complaint. You know—I spent three hours cooking this amazing meal, and then everybody finishes it in fifteen minutes. With a book, you may spend months writing and the reader devours it in a couple of days. But they can always come back and repeat the same banquet, and if you’re lucky enough to have any leftovers, you can make a sequel out of them that can also be enjoyed again and again.
Continuing to run with the culinary analogy, authors also have to eat their own cooking. I often read through my books five or more times when in the editing and polishing phase. So it’s vital that you, yourself, like your story enough to re-read it. If not, I doubt any reader ever will.
Of Tollbooths and Pickles
Something today made me remember my time at junior high, way back in the last century. One day in class, the teacher gave us a sort of personality test. There was only one question.
Which job would you rather have? a) Tollbooth clerk; b) Construction Flagger, or c) Pickle Taster.
(I have no idea how they came up with this list, by the way. What happened to ‘any child can become President’, which people still believed in those days? Or how about, I don’t know, lawyer? Doctor? Or for that matter, Indian chief?)
Anyway, much to my surprise, the most popular job was tollbooth clerk. I mean, really? Sitting in an office is bad enough, but being cooped up in one of those little booths all day? You would at least get to take people’s money (actual cash, in those days), but it seemed to me like a good way to go nuts slowly.
The next most chosen job was construction flagger. Well, that wouldn’t be as bad–at least you’d get to move around a bit and get some fresh air (though there would be winter work, too, and lots of exhaust fumes).
Only I, and one of the girls in the class, chose pickle taster. This is almost impossible to comprehend. It was the one job that promised scope and variety. One day you could be tossing a bunch of gherkins with a contemptuous review, like Colonel Sanders visiting a troubled Kentucky Fried Chicken outlet, the next you might discover a new taste sensation. You could steer the industry toward lacto-fermentation rather than sousing things in vinegar, suggest new recipes–herbs, hot peppers, the possibilities are endless…not to mention that you can pickle almost anything: you wouldn’t even have to nibble on cucumbers all day.
Becoming a pickle whisperer could make a real difference in people’s lives.
Well. Today it occurred to me, having grown more cynical with the years, that maybe this survey was really no different from any other pop quiz you’d get, where how you did would depend on how well you knew the materials covered in class. Given how public school was conceived and run, even back in those days, wouldn’t kids be expected to opt for a safe job working for the government? Along with a few willing to work at the jobs that were left for private industry. The teacher might have reviewed the results of the test and nodded in satisfaction, concluding that the system was working as designed.
In this view, the pickle tasting job would be just be one of those c) d) or e) options on a multiple choice test to entrap the unwary. Statistically insignificant.
Of course, there is another possibility: I, and that girl whose name I unfortunately can’t remember, might just have been genuinely odd people. In support of that interpretation, I did decide to become an author.
Looking Both Ways
Very pleased with the results of the Based Book Sale just ended! I’m happy that discerning readers can now make their way through the whole of Sean’s Saga without having to spend empty, lonely years wondering what comes next.
This came at a good time for me, as I was considering giving up fantasy writing and switching to some suitably ominous-sounding pen name to concentrate on cozy mysteries…actually, that still doesn’t sound like a bad idea, except for the ‘giving up’ part.
Now, on to the Epic Indie Summer Sale!
Sale
The time is upon us for the Summer Based Book sale, with books from authors old and new on sale for .99 or free, including a few from yours truly–Robin Hood Wolf’s Head and the Sean’s Saga trilogy.
The End of the World, Literally
It was a long time coming, but after Sean’s Saga stretched out for almost 10 years while real life took its toll, it’s finally here.
The Big One. The Last Battle. Ragnarok.
Get it here, before it’s too late!
Summer Sale
My Kindle books, including The Well of Time (the latest in Sean’s Saga) are on sale til next week for a buck. I’m doing the Based Book Sale again–looks like a lot of fun books are up this time, I’m seeing pirates, pulp fiction, mysteries…now that the weather’s finally warming up, time to get to the beach (or backyard, as the case may be), sip a refreshing drink, build a sand castle, and most importantly, read!
The Well of Time Now Available in Kindle Edition
The title more or less says it all. If you aren’t one of the cool kids who already bought the print edition, the KIndle version is available here. The third and final book in Sean’s Saga is on the way soon!
The Return of Sean
The time has finally come. Sean is back with the second installment of his saga, The Well of Time.
The tale has grown in the telling, to quote another guy who had an occasional issue with publication delays. The Last Battle, the third and last book of the series, is complete and will be forthcoming this year, along with Kindle editions of both the books.
What if the Wrong Characters Live Forever?
“Of course it’s very hampering being a detective, when you don’t know anything about detecting, and when nobody knows that you’re doing detection, and you can’t have people up to cross-examine them, and you have neither the energy nor the means to make proper inquiries; and in short, when you’re doing the whole thing in a thoroughly amateur, haphazard way.”
This diffident and witty passage comes from A.A. Milne’s only murder mystery, The Mystery of the Red House (1922). Although not quite up to the standard of Agatha Christie or Dorothy Sayers, it’s a pleasant and ingenious whodunit with murders both real and darkly imagined, hidden motives, missing bodies, funny dialogue, and the odd secret passage.
But of course nobody has heard Milne’s name because of this book, or his essays in Punch, or his scripts for the early British film industry. Or even his plays, though several of them were hits on the London stage. Once he decided, after a trip to the zoo with his son, to pen a story of the boy’s own adventures with a stuffed bear in a magical wood, nothing else he’d done mattered any more.
Then there’s Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. He wanted to be known for his historical novels, and the mega-success of Sherlock Holmes was apparently a bitter pill for him to swallow. He tried to reduce the demand for new Holmes stories by raising his fees, but the dastardly publishers paid up without complaint. (Some people just have rotten luck, I guess.)
Like some Deep State operative at his wits’ end, Conan Doyle then tried simply assassinating his out-of-control hero. The attempt failed. He should have remembered the old admonition about striking at the king. He was more or less forced to bring Holmes back, and write a new series of stories about him, meanwhile continuing to grouse all the way to the bank.
Milne, though also apparently annoyed by Winnie-the-Pooh’s popularity, dealt with his frustration differently. He gave his stories an ending that made Pooh basically immortal, and gifted Christopher Robin with a sort of eternal youth (whether or not his son was happy about that is another matter, but divine gifts often bring troubles in their wake).
Still, on the whole, I like Milne’s way better, and would follow his example if I get a chance. And at this point, I’m formally putting all wish-granting supernatural entities on notice, if any happen to be listening at the moment: any of my characters is allowed to become immortal. Granted, I may be a bit peeved if it were, say, Holly Morrison from Father Winter who achieves a literary version of eternal life, rather than Sean of Sean’s Saga, or my own Robin Hood Wolfshead (arguably unfair anyway, since his parent character is already immortal), or any of the Blackthorn family from my upcoming supernatural-cozy-comedy-cum-epic-fantasy The Blackthorn Chronicles.
But I’d be okay with it. I would try to bear up under the fame and accolades with as much grace as possible. So have at!
Eric Tanafon 