Kyle Michel Sullivan's Blog: https://www.myirishnovel.com/, page 55

Uncentered...

I had to get up early and go in to an outpatient surgery center, this morning, to have some Basel skin carcinoma cells cut out of my cheek. It didn't hurt much and only took just over an hour, but it's thrown me off. Which isn't hard to do, anymore.

They say they got it all and I'm due back next week to have the stitches removed, so healing should go well. But it looks like a caterpillar on my face. 

I couldn't focus on anything afterwards, so went back into APoS-Derry to check on something and found the table of Contents was wrong. Half of it was off by 1 number. NOT cool.

So I went back through it and found another had the old name of a chapter in the ToC. Being a paranoid freak, I then went through every page and number to make sure it was all okay before contacting Ingram and uploading the updated PDF.

After checking it, twice more. Now I'll need to verify the Smashwords version, as well. Shit.

I can't fucking believe it. I went over that story so damn many times...and still there are major blunders. This does not bode well for the next two volumes. Probably means a mental decline or cognitive abilities are worn out. I don't know.

I don't remember having this much trouble in my other stories.

All set up, I hope...

A Place of Safety-Derry is set up on Smashwords and is going through the process of migrating to other outlets, like Kobo, B&N and Apple. Those take a few days. I don't know if Amazon will offer an ebook from them, since they're so obnoxious about Kindle. And they've gotten worse in the last year or so. Therefore...for those who have a Kindle reader, Smashwords offers the ebook in a format it can work with. I priced it at $2.99, which may be too much for some people to pay, but it is what it is.

I went through all kinds of nonsense with Ingram Spark to set up the hardback version of the story. First they wouldn't let me past a certain page during the inputting of information till I contacted customer service and asked why. Meanwhile, I'd logged off and it sat for an hour. Then when I went back in, it was fine.

But they do have this ridiculous attitude about color profiles in my black and white text. There are no photos in the book. No color bits. It's just text on paper. But apparently that has some form of color profile that they can see and I can find nowhere when I search through Word. So I simply okay'd it and we'll see how it turns out.

The dust jacket was another bit of back and forth. They insist on using only CMYK and I really do not like how the reds turn out in that format. They also howled about color profiles in that, as well, which I don't understand because the cover is in color. But I finally worked out how to handle it. Also, I was just flattening the image instead of merging everything visible.

But now everything is uploaded and I'm waiting for the proof to come through before ordering a copy to make sure it's all okay.

I've set the publication date for the HB on January 16th, and it's priced at $32.95. Any lower and I'm in the red, once printing costs, discounts and fees are taken into account. I'll be lucky if I sell 10 copies.

So much for my dreams of Stephen King sized sales. None of my books go anywhere near that.

Review for A Place of Safety-Derry

 Wow...just...wow...

BookLife:
Raw, pulsing with life and danger, and building to a hard-to-shake climax, this epic novel of growing up in a world gone mad centers on Brendan Kinsella, “a lad filled with hopes and dreams and prayers and promises” in Derry in Northern Ireland, in the tumultuous 1960s, when “Catholics were killed for being Catholic and Catholic schools were attacked by Protestant fools, all because the Catholic minority in the state had the nerve to want the same rights as any Protestant.” Those killed include Brendan’s father. The city seethes and divides as he enters adolescence, confused and fascinated by sex, roiled with complex feelings about his abusive “da”’s death, and all-too-familiar with phrases like “papist scum.” Brandon’s life is shaped by hatreds, bombings, checkpoints, and fleeting moments of connection and beauty in the rubble.

The likelihood of violence haunts both Brendan’s youth and Sullivan’s clipped, brisk, hard-edge prose. A civil rights march facing a line of constables “kept flowing, like a flooded river smashing against a jam of logs and refuse”; Brendan, the famous “fix-it lad” of his circle, laments “the vicious politeness I was being handed by people I’d been doing work for since I could first hold a set of grips.” Dialogue, too, is sharp, slicing, and convincing. The novel is long, but Sullivan, a prolific author in a host of genres, wastes few words conjuring the milieu, the prevailing sense of desperation, and the ugly but undeniable thrill of striking back.

Tense marches and confrontations at checkpoints abound, including one beauty in which women harangue soldiers abusing Brendan and co. with the finest Irish profanity. Sullivan is just as committed to capturing Brandon’s development in moments of relief, working at an auto shop and enjoying the occasional escape, with friends or eventually a lover, into what he calls a “new and amazing world of peace and tolerance.” Those reprieves make the finale all the more wrenching.

Takeaway: Wrenching epic of coming-of-age in Derry during the Troubles.

Comparable Titles: David Keenan’s For the Good Times, Anna Burns’s Milkman.

Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A

Do I love my words? Or my characters?

I wrote a 14 page synopsis for New World For Old, laying out the main beats in each chapter and the flow of the story as I'd written it, so far. I took that with me to San Antonio and worked on it. Red pen everywhere. Notes out the wazoo, if I'm able to read my scurvy handwriting...and I feel a bit overwhelmed by the journey ahead.

I probably added the equivalent of five chapters and 20,000 words to the story...all to help build Brendan's journey into a quiet shore of gentle waves, but with riptide sneaking beneath the surface. I know that's a bit grandiose, but I feel entitled to it, right now. There is not one page of that long-form synopsis that is without commentary, and all the blank backs of the pages have directions on where to rearrange things or entire moments to add in.

Meaning I'm doing a page-one rewrite of this volume, right down to finding some better chapter headings.

I think the most important thing these notes did was to remind me that Brendan handles trouble by fixing things. Joanna even mentions it in Derry. It's how he maintains a form of control in his life. That's partly why, when chaos hit him at the end of Volume One, and there was nothing he could do...nothing he was allowed to do to make it better...he broke free of the real world to give himself time to fix himself.

I'd sort of lost track of that in NWFO, to an extent, but found a way back to it and will work that in, more. He already fixes his Montessa motorbike so it's better than new...but then he finds an even bigger project to help him deal with his mother's illness and conflicting emotions about it. He thinks she hates him and he's both sorry she's ill but also relieved and feels guilty over that relief.

It doesn't help that he's not Brendan Kinsella in Houston; he's Brennan McGabbhin. So his repairs are also a way for him to keep in contact with who he really is and not lose himself in an identity his uncle is forcing him to maintain.

I dunno if that makes sense, but I'm embarking on at least another 7 rewrites of this book. My hope is it will by the end of the last one.

I have no control over my mind

Nasty trip home. Hellacious and exhausting. Yesterday was dead space in brain. Today was searching for something to break the clouds in my brain. So I wrote this. May make it a book. Or a novella to go with another one I posted some time ago. Dunno. I'm just in a foul mood and angry. FREDDYYoung Freddy had gone for a walk.His mood was...he’d rather not talk.A neighbor he’d just met, named Ray,Still stopped him, to quietly say,“Some friends of mine, Chuck, Dan and Bill,Think you’d be such fun...which you will.”That’s when they appeared, as Ray’s pack,To grab Freddy, in an attack.He knew them all, knew they had wivesAnd kids...but they also had knives.Both bound and gagged, he bravely fought,But still got dragged off to a plotWith an old shed. Clothes cut away.Forced down to a basement, to stay."We loved to see your tatts and assAnd wanted you, each time you’d pass,"Ray said, as he forced his way inFreddy’s mouth, the first to begin."The way you fit your jeans was tight.So we're gonna keep you all night.And when we're done then you will knowWe own you and won't let you go."This all was confusing. The ladDid not know what he’d done so badTo cause them to do this. "You're gay,"Don said, going next. "It’s your way.""Then so are you," Freddy spat back.Which only led Chuck to attackHim with fists. "You don't call us queer."Then Bill snarled, "Let me make it clear.It’s fags who get fucked, and not us,So there's nothing more to discuss.We'll keep you to use, till we're done.Then we’ll go find some other oneJust like you, who we'll pass around.While you'll be six feet in the ground."Oh, shit. Other men disappearedWith no word. All dead, as was feared.No, that won’t be me, Freddy thought. No man gets to think that he’s brought Me here to be killed, like I’m trash. I’ll live to make sure your lives crash. Two weeks he spent playing their toy,And he made sure to bring them joyBy using each trick he had learnedTo make every time with him earned,As he built a plan to regroup.Until the night he got the scoopThat by morning, he’d leave this earthIn spirit. But he had no dearthOf ways to escape far from themAnd not accept their evil whim.So that's what he did. And he keptHow he did it a secret, but weptIn the court as he told the foul tale.And those four men went straight to jail.Then Freddy said, "I'll write a book,And in it you can have a lookAt the evil those bastards did me.Now I’m a gay hero...and free."

So far so good...

Christmas visit was nice, despite two VERY long drives, both with me behind the wheel because my youngest brother never learned to drive. That runs in the family; our mother and grandmother never did, either. Just busses and cabs.

Considering how people have forgotten driver etiquette, it might not be a bad idea for me to do, as well.b I did a lot of yelling, down here.

I got some things I asked for, and wound up giving everyone gift cards since I had no idea what they wanted. The vast majority of us are on the same page, politically, so no arguments done. So damn much food -- turkey, ham, stuffing, gravy, corn on the cob, whipped potatoes (my way of making them, with an egg and some cheese), green bean casserole, salad, roasted yams, croissants, rolls, gravy, and cheesecake.

I'm glad I got an even more space seat on the JetBlue flight home; I'll need the extra room.

I'm not going to finish reading Trust, just now. I'm focusing on going through my notes for APoS-New World For Old and for Blood Angel-Franz. I also want to get involved with a new group what will be helping get books too erotic for Kindle and such published.  See if I can get HTRASG set up in it.

Still no word on the review promised me for APoS-Derry. I'm hoping it comes in this week.

I almost think I've recharged my batteries and can get more done in the writing, faster. The ideas I have for NWFO should fit in easily, and some will change the events of APoS-Home Not Home.

I'm actually looking forward to getting back on them.

Photos of my trip...

 These are photos of my trip to San Antonio, to visit my sister, brother and nephews. My brother and sister sitting along the Riverwalk in San Antonio, talking. Riverboat dining. Once the food is brought out, the boat begins its tour along the river. The former Nix Hospital, where my grandmother was a nurse in the newborn nursery on the 23rd floor. She worked there 30 years. The Alamo, of course. The plaza is torn up in some ridiculous attempt to make it into a touristy theme park. But at least the painting of John Wayne in his movie The Alamo is gone from the gift shop. Casa Rio, the first restaurant on the Riverwalk. Serves so-so Mexican food but it's been there for nearly 70 years and started the riverboat dining. Behind it is the Hilton Palacio del Rio, which was built using pre-fabricated rooms that were then stacked onto each other, in 1967, for Hemisfair.

Lunch at Schilo's German Deli. They make their own sauerkraut and root beer. Best ever.
Also had dinner with one nephew at a Rudy's, which offers a great brisket and excellent BBQ sauce, and we talked for hours. Tomorrow is the drive down to Aransas Pass and Christmas.

Southwest Airlines sucks...

Headed for San Antonio, I changed planes in Baltimore. My app told me I was going out of gate B9. It was actually B5. The plane was fully boarded on time and ready to leave...but we sat there for a solid hour. We were still waiting for a bag from another flight.

For some reason I think they were bullshitting us.

So I got in an hour late, then Avis tried to give me a Toyota Tacoma 4x4. I drive a Civic. The smallest car they had available was a Malibu, so I took that but it's like piloting a barge. The hotel is okay, but I stupidly decided to travel up to Austin, today, to check out a store called Glass Coffin...and traffic was hideous thanks to construction, wrecks, and the usual Texas idiots on the road who won't go the speed limit and are in the far inside lane. What used to be a 1-hour trip took 2.5.

It's a fun shop, and I did find a book to help me with Blood Angel -- A History of the Vampire in Popular Culture by Violet Fenn. I think I'll read this en route home. On the trip down, I was reading Trust by Hernan Diaz, which won the Pulitzer for Literature, last year...and I am massively underwhelmed. I'm being told the story instead of experiencing it or getting lost in it, and it's becoming a bit of a chore to finish. I'm about halfway through.

I've already engorged myself with Taco Cabana and Whataburger...and found there are Panda Express and In-n-Outs all over the place. But tomorrow is Rudy's BBQ and Schilo's German Delicatessen, then Saturday is driving down to Aransas Pass for the family Christmas.

Brendan has a moment in New World For Old where he feels like he's broken free from his family's demands and limitations but winds up being called back in, and I can see that in me, right now. I love them all...and love living at the other end of the country from them so we don't have to interact every day. I'm sure they'd wind up hating me after a little while, I'm such a self-involved freak.

Which makes it hard to shop for them at Christmas.

The beginning of my APoS aspic...

Meaning, it's beginning to gel in my head. I'm getting ideas and nudges from Brendan about what to put in not only New World For Old but also Home Not Home.

For example, he wants more time with what is, basically, a second family he builds when he sneaks away from his aunt and uncle's home after a brutal interaction over him dating a Cajun girl. His plan is to get away from them, but he has no idea where else to go so finds a furnished room over near the University of Houston to give him time to think...and grows close to the people who live there.

The place is owned by Mrs. Glendon, who's elderly, always wears light caftans, on the ethereal side, and has a sort of whatever happens happens attitude. The other boarders are:

1. Elton, who's tall, thin, quiet, very shy and still, on disability. his eyes see all, and he's a savant in languages. He becomes pen pals with Rhuari over Gaelic, once Brendan connects them.

2. Richard Markowitz, who's Jewish, stocky, hairy, has a Roman nose, and is always in a suit. He works in food management. He's waiting to see if a contract at UH will become permanent. It doesn't, so he moves on to NASA in Huntsville, AL 

3. Myron Phelan, a young man with cerebral palsy who's independent to a fault, as Mrs. Glendon says. He has sharp eyes and a hawk-like nose. Everyone thinks he's on disability but when he dies they learn his parents put him there because they didn't want him at home. He has a twin brother who is okay but is never seen. 

4. Mrs. Kendall, who's black, very large and a chatterbox. She lives on SSI and cooks killer meals from ingredients others bring her, twice a week, for everyone so she can keep the leftovers.  

5. Miss Alexander is thin and always well dressed, with hair in a French twist. She works in the fabric shop of a local department store and keeps to herself. 

6. Sonja is the granddaughter to Mrs. Glendon, who's chunky, avaricious and surly...except when playing piano. She lives in an apartment over the garage, out back.

He also connects with a guy named Randy-Ray, 50s, who runs a motorcycle shop off 45 and Stoke, back of his house. Brendan gets parts for his Montessa motorbike there and winds up repairing a wreck of a green Peugeot 504, left drive, in exchange for parts. He rebuilds it as a way to repair himself.

I'm not sure how much of this will work in, but I know I'm adding at least one more chapter to give Bren time with them all, then they're part of his Houston life from then on.

I don't feel like writing, no sir...

No writing today. Instead, I watched this little video and let the whole world pass me by as I just vegged and let what Ik'm thinking about APoS-New World For Old settle into my brain.

The anatomy of music is fascinating..