New Home, New Post, New Book Release . . . Same Ol' Smart-Alecky Author
Loaded on Spotify as I create this blog post: "State of Grace," a track from Billy Joel's STORM FRONT album. Seriously? You really thought I'd change that personality horse this far into the game, this far midstream? Oh, c'mon, now . . . you oughta know me better'n that! See, I say this because I go on my own code--the very code the universe and the Author of that universe, ingrained in me. So for those of you in my blog shadow over the years knowing of my easygoing, laid-back style, please indulge me while I get the newer members of my audience caught up to speed. Entertain yourselves, long-time followers, I shan't be long. Promise. But if you'd like to read on, please do.
For those of you new to me, WHEW! You're in for a wild ride of old-school NYC honesty and openness about my writing life and the creative process, character interviews; deleted scenes; haikus; flash fiction; my patriotism for America, love and respect for God and my REALISTIC, non-lionizing support for and of Trump; food; my bag, shoes, watches, pens, stuffed animals, and notebook collections; my non-writing loves, interests and passions, my dislikes and pet peeves; posts of my cattle dog, five semi-feral cats, and a pet groundhog dubbed "Harrisburg Harry," music; politics; the giants and jerks of the indie publishing life; my books and how each coming to be don't always follow the same writing path the previous one did; bitching about a future Lyft ride and a recent adventure with my present PT gig as a food explainer; and on occasion, my love life. And yes, before you ask--it'll oftentimes be crass, as, despite being a lady, I've a mouth like a sewer before Chuck Wendig made that style of blog posting famous. But remember the popular acronym, WYSIWYG? That's me, in a nutshell. You're free to stop reading and turn back at this point. We'll go away agreeing to disagree agreeably, but as I'll never know if that's what you did, I'll still hold you in my good thoughts and prayers.
You're still here? Yay! Then you love the C.S. Lewis quote as I do: "Friendship begins when one meets another and says, 'What, you too? I thought I was the only one.' " Somehow, somewhere in your spirit, it rose up and told you it's time for something new. Cage-rattling. Comfort-zone exploding, envelope-pushing, dreaming bigger. Whichever that niggling was, you found it. And once you go down that rabbit hole, you're not coming out of this or emerging the other side the same as you'd gone in. I'll piss you off. I'll offend you. I'll make you gasp and you'll maybe shadow ignore me. I really don't give a shit. The point is, I got a reaction out of you enough to do this to me, and for it, you're going to THINK about why you reacted so strongly. Isn't that why we write? Isn't that why we have a message? Isn't that why we have something to say and worth saying? All right, then. I'm not meant for everybody, and that's fine with me. The ones I AM meant for, love me more, and I, them. The ones I'm not meant for . . . well, as mentioned before, we'll part agreeably to disagree. Unfortunately, in this overly charged climate of who can say what, how, when, why and if it's not of a certain standard, it's eliminated, that's not always easy. But as long as you have that burning message in your form of creativity, whichever that form takes to get your message across, I'll back your right to say it. I might disagree with the message--and I'll probably dissuade you from continuing to keep pushing it and believing in it--but I'll advocate your right TO say it, no matter how offensive. And that level of decency is what's shredding away this country's fabric of who we truly are. But that's another topic for another time.
What's happened in life since my last post on Publishers' Marketplace? I've been drafting Casebook #4, laying groundwork for Maroon The Sleuth Books, LLC; saw Theresa Caputo's Live Experience--that's another post for another time--and release my first novel, JERSEY DOGS, this week. The enormity of this still hasn't fully sunk in, but the Saturday before the actual release date, Tuesday, 23 July 2018, I cried massive ugly tears over that event. Don't misunderstand, I'm thrilled my series open has finally seen the light of day, but it still feels like I'm still an unpublished author. Was I expecting fireworks, a parade, 76 trombones to sound its release marching down my street? In a strnge way, kind of. But I know from the THOUSANDS of other books landing the same day mine did, why should anyone make a spectacle over mine? Because it's mine? Because I finally gave birth to a book, I'm part of a small group of people in the world over the course of time doing before me what I did? I did something dozens more only talk about, plan, research, buy the tools for--and never hit that Publish button? I guess. I mean, I'm excited and not at the same time, if this makes sense--like having sex for the first time or completing a 26.2 marathon, or actually giving birth to your first kid. I think what I'm feeling is "Is this all there is?" kind of a letdown. I busted my tail on this book for a baker's dozen years, had more false starts in its release than I'd like to mention, formatted it myself--like hell I'm doing that again, trust and b'lieve!--and no one's as excited for its release as I am. People are happy for me, but they're not STOKED like I am. I wonder if this is normal. If so, I reckon it's on me to deal with it. But before I depress you too much, the first Casebook mystery is so far available on Kobo, Playster, iTunes, and Barnes & Noble. It's really a big kick typing your name and book title into one of those sites and seeing your name pop up. And it's an altogether different feeling than having a newspaper byline, which I've had hundreds of before becoming a novelist.
And with that, I'll post this and drag myself to bed. Thanks for stopping by and taking a bit of your time getting to know me. I aspire to not disappoint.
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