Tyler Colins's Blog, page 13

When All is Said and Done . . .

… You celebrate.

Because you’ve completed your manuscript (and done several edits, nudge-nudge). Yay!

Disco’s Dead and so is Mo-Mo has gone through its final edit, and is ready to be submitted. Mo-Mo is the sixth in the Triple Threat Investigation Agency series. It took quite some time to complete, given all of life’s challenges having been hurled this way, but better late than never, isn’t that what they say?

So, what’s it about?  In the proverbial nutshell: private eyes JJ, Rey, and Linda out to solve a decades-old murder.

Who killed infamous mobster Sammy Mo-Mo Martine during the days of disco and stuffed him in a drum . . . to [finally] be found in the sapphire waters of the Pacific?

Mo-Mo disappeared in Montreal QC in 1978.  How was it that he ended up being found so many years later on the other side of the world?  Johnny “Baloney” Vespuzzi was deemed to be the person responsible for Mo-Mo’s disappearance back then; unfortunately, no one could prove anything.  Rumors abounded, including one that perhaps Mo-Mo had been wasted by the infamous and very successful hitman, Death Angel.

There’s a curious cast of characters, many who knew of Mo-Mo. Some hated him and might have wanted to see him offed. Unfortunately, many of them end up being offed.  The trio determines to sort through years-old data, interview anyone and everyone who might have known something about what happened during those days of disco … while trying to steer clear of any bullets that fly their way.

This case is different from any case they’ve undertaken so far. Will JJ, Rey, and Linda succeed? Or will Mo-Mo’s murder remain the mystery it has over the decades?

Here’s to submitting . . . and seeing the three pretty eyes in print once again. 

Pretty … Powerful

Polina Krymskaya’s Forbidden Rock and Roll is a pretty powerful read, just as the author is a pretty powerful author.  She’s young and talented and has an amazing life ahead of her as a writer, if she chooses to pursue that, and I fervently hope she does.

I had the pleasure of editing this book, as well as the sequel, and thoroughly enjoyed both. There are few books that I will remember months [if not years] down the road, but hers I definitely will.

The characters are strong, the storyline simple yet complex. It revolves around students in a small Soviet town.  The two main characters, Seva and Zhenya. form a friendship based on mutual school friends and studying and a love of forbidden rock and roll; over time, the friendship becomes more intricate.

While Seva is artistic, Zhenya is academic. As the former grows increasingly confused about his mental state—re sexuality and leaning—he begins to withdraw from the friendship and eventually, completely retreats. He is left grappling with emotions he can’t—and doesn’t want to—comprehend.

Seva begins dating a popular schoolmate, Alina, which serves as a distraction from what he’s truly feeling—that he has distinct feelings for Zhenya.  Life goes on … as do inner conflicts.

The time and setting are not conducive to gay relationships. In fact, there are serious consequences if one is found to have homosexual tendencies. Acknowledging one is such would be next to perilous, as one would pay an incredible price, such as exile or prison, among other things.

The story is thought provoking, taking us into the mind of a young man with confusing thoughts and turbulent emotions that he struggles to control.  The reader is pulled into the two young men’s world; it’s impossible not to feel for the characters and their challenges and struggles.  

Yet, despite the odds, there’s hope that somewhere down the road, there will be a happy ending.  You want them to succeed.  You want them to end up together.  Love, after all, is a very splendid thing.

Ten Rons Don’t Make a Wright

Time to post about writing again. Get back in that semiprofessional mode.

One of my beefs as both a reader and editor is the repeated use of names in a book.

Ron clinked his beer mug against Wright’s as they sat at the bar, watching the baseball game. Then, they sipped and returned to grumbling about the uneventful game. Socializing with Wright like this was the last thing Ron had expected, given they worked together but weren’t really friends. But Ron hadn’t wanted to spend another evening alone and Wright’s company so far, had been okay. Ron wouldn’t let Wright know this, though. Ron couldn’t give Wright a chance to see, or use, his vulnerability.

“Man, this guy’s a loser,” Wright muttered, nodding at the pitcher.  “Doncha think, Ron?”

Ron nodded at Wright.  “Totally agree.”

Wright motioned Ron and Wright’s mugs.  “Another round?”

Ron replied, “Sounds good, Wright.”

Readers retain a lot. They don’t need to be told that Ron said this and Ron did that, and Ron was fine, and then Ron was mad and Ron raced out of the condo, and Ron … you get it. Nothing shows amateurism more than throwing in [the same] names 20+ times on one page. 

Vary it.  This might sound/read better (and let’s tighten/embellish a bit while we’re at it) . . .

Ron clinked his frosty beer mug against Wright’s as they sat at the busy bar, watching the baseball game. They sipped and returned to grumbling about the uneventful event. Socializing with Wright was the last thing he’d expected, given they’d worked together for years but weren’t really friends. But he hadn’t wanted to spend another evening alone and his coworker’s company so far had proven just fine. He’d never let Wright know this, though. Why give the egocentric guy a chance to see, or use, his vulnerability?

“Man, this guy’s a loser,” Wright muttered, nodding at the pitcher.  “Doncha think?”

Ron nodded.  “Totally agree.”

He motioned their half-filled mugs.  “Another round?”

“Sounds good.”

Repeating names too often—and that also applies to actions, phrases, and statements—lends itself to flatness. I don’t know about you, but I get pretty bored pretty quickly if a writer feels compelled to tell me who did and said what with every sentence.

It all relates to proofing and editing. It’s obvious with the many manuscripts that come across this dining-room table (a dislocated shoulder makes working at a desk more difficult), that this isn’t being done. That’s a shame. One really should take pride in one’s work—and that means being [more] diligent and less ego-driven.  No matter how good/talented one thinks they are, there is always room for improvement.

Solid [superlative] writing comes with practice, and learning, and listening.  Period.

When in Doubt, Dictate

Recently, I discovered the Dictate icon. I suppose I always knew it was there—seeing but not acknowledging, something like that—yet was never remotely inclined to use it. I’ve seen too many manuscripts come in having been written with Dictate. It’s often not pretty.

But, when you’re challenged, you’re challenged. And typing with one hand is no fun. For those who missed my previous post, I suffered a dislocated shoulder when I bussed the sidewalk.  (Did you know it’s next to impossible to sue the city?)

I can’t say I’m crazy about Dictate, but it serves its purpose. With practice, I imagine it won’t be that much of a headache.

On the injury front, I’m just starting to do a couple of exercises. It ain’t fun.

Taking each day as it comes, as I suppose we all should do. And, yes, we should be grateful that things aren’t worse than they are, given our situations. As they say, there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel … though this one seems rather long and curvy and never-ending.  Ah well.  Who doesn’t like a challenge?

Have an awesome week. I’m off for a bit of a walk—with eyes fixed on the concrete. 

Take care, and God bless.

Can You Spell O-U-C-H ?

For those who haven’t seen my FB post—sigh—I managed to take a header on the sidewalk.  Wasn’t paying attention (knew that section had issues and should have been aware).  Wham!  Hit the concrete flying, literally.

In those two seconds, and darkness. I knew it was going to be a major “incident”.  Impact made, it felt as if my right (dominant) arm had sailed into the heavens. 

Two young men very kindly helped.  The lady in the nails’ salon called 911.  Off I went to ER.  A jam-packed one.

Long (dull but painful) story short, I eventually was put under and my shoulder re-located.  And now, I’m off work for a month . . . figuring out how to type, because it’s a challenge right now (o-u-c-h).  Well, all one baby step at a time, I suppose.

I was so proud of the muscle definition in my arms.  Now, they’ll look saggy and old, and man, am I p’o’d.  If I’d only paid more attention.

All in hindsight, right?  All in hindsight.  Sigh.

Personal Promo Push

Once in a while, ya gotta push your aspiring [hopeful] self . . . so-o . . . my book Triple Threat Mysteries, Books 1-3 is available via a seasonal promotion at Apple thru July 18th … for 99¢.

The first book, The Connecticut Corpse Caper, was initially meant to be a standalone.  JJ, Rey, and Linda had other ideas, however.  Having donned Sherlock Holmes’ deerstalker caps, they’d determined to discover who was murdering the [potential] recipients of a not-too-shabby inheritance—provided they stayed at Aunt Mat’s haunted mansion for a week.  Unfortunately for most, they didn’t “leave” of their own volition.  Successful in finally having discovered the murderer—murderers?—the three women decide to become professional private eyes, and set up shop on Oahu.

Can You Hula like Hilo Hattie and Coco’s Nuts are the second and third books respectively and follow the trio’s first two official—challenging and curious—cases.  Hula has them finding out the “secret” of a millionaire’s young, trophy wife while Coco has them attempting to demonstrate that their beautiful client is innocent of two murders.

If you’d like to check out how JJ, Rey, and Linda fare, you can order the Triple Threat three-book volume via this link to the book page in the store:

https://itunes.apple.com/book/id6448790286

A Wiz at Words

. . . does not a great writer make.

A wiz is someone awesomely skilled in any field and most of us have at least one in which we’re pretty darn good, maybe even excel at.

But one could say that being skilled at plucking impressive sounding words from here, there, and everywhere to pad a novel makes one a wiz.  That must take a certain talent . . . or is that a need to appear learned?

I believe I’m a pretty darn good editor [and writer], but I also recognize that I’m always learning something new, be it a fact . . . or a word.

Having been around the block a few times—more than I will ever share —I believe I have a fairly keen eye.  There’s nothing more gratifying than “discovering” a skilled writer or gifted storyteller (there’s a difference).  One day, perhaps I’ll share reviews of some outstanding manuscripts/books I’ve come across, ones that will remain with me for years, they’re that good.  And enviable.  I’d love to have that flair, that genius.

I’m not sure what’s more dismaying: writers who never review their work (final product) or those who use a thesaurus to demonstrate how “literate” they are and use words [embarrassingly] incorrectly.  If someone is going to use a wordlist, they should also engage a dictionary, and ensure the word is used as intended.

On the other hand, if companies and publishers are no longer as discriminating as to how documents/books are written, can one then comment on or place blame for shoddy writing?  It keeps editors and proofreaders in business, which is fine (I love my job!) . . . but it compromises the meaning of the word “pride”.

Egos abound when it comes to artists.  And they are not “flimsy” or “spindly” but tend to be “fragile” or “frail”.  I have one myself, but it’s never so exaggerated or brash that I can’t or won’t listen to reason.  Sure, my feelings can be hurt (I’m very sensitive), but I won’t/don’t grow if I don’t heed advice and criticism (constructive as opposed to destructive is preferable).

Mentoring is something I’ve always enjoyed, and I’m willing (happy) to provide guidance when asked.  Sadly, few want it, but for the handful who do, thank you.   

Times, however, do change, and with them rules, regulations, outlooks, approaches, beliefs, and so forth.  Most are definitely for the better (!), and are a must, but some . . . ?  Food for thought and discussion.  Or maybe one honors this: “Ours is not to reason why, ours is but to do or die.” A bit severe and a quote that has been incorrectly repeated over time (check it out), but maybe we don’t always question.  More food for thought and discussion.  

On that ending note,  I suppose it’s best simply to [continue to] go with the meandering course, instead of locomoting against the brawny current . . . er, go with the flow, instead of swimming against the current. 

Happy Canada Day / Happy Independence Day

It only seemed right to post a most “Happy Happy” to neighboring countries sharing the same continent.

Canada’s celebrating the 1st (though I’d always hoped I’d [at some time] be embracing the 4th, but life/fate just hasn’t cooperated in that department, LOL).

A very basic bare-bones history lesson . . . but a very intricate, multifaceted past.

July 1st, Canada Day, came about in 1868, when the Governor General, Lord Monck (I must have failed history 101 because that name’s unfamiliar) signed a proclamation; it requested those residing throughout the country to celebrate the anniversary of the creation of the unification of the provinces in British North America (whew) under the name of Canada on July 1st 1867.

Called Dominion Day, it was legally established in 1879 . . . but celebrations didn’t really start until 1917.  And it wasn’t until 1958 that the government organized an annual ceremony, which started with “Trooping the Colours”, a sunset service, concert, and fireworks.  A decade later, Dominion Day became Canada Day.  Celebrations, of course, have evolved over the years, as we well know—to embrace community events, concerts, parades, barbecues, and picnics. 

July 4th, the Fourth of July, Independence Day, has been a federal U.S. holiday since 1941 (I’d have thought much earlier; yup, must have failed history 101).  The tradition, however, dates back to the 18th century and the American Revolution.  It was July 2nd, 1776, that the Continental Congress voted in favor of independence; two days later, delegates from the then thirteen colonies implemented the Declaration of Independence which, for those not in the know, had been drafted by Founding Father and [third] President Thomas Jefferson.

Since 1776, July 4th has been celebrated as the birth of American independence and, like Canada, does so with a host of festivities including parades, concerts, fireworks, family get-togethers, barbecues, and picnics.

Given the writing and editing components of this blog, I considered what made for definitive Canadian and American books . . . that are reflective of Canadiana and Americana.  There are countless stellar ones, but there are two that I recall vividly from both sides of the border.  They’re replete with challenges and struggles, strength of character and resilience, learning and growth, sin and virtue—features that form and solidified both countries, and made them what they are today.

In terms of Canada, thanks to outstanding descriptions and details, Gabrielle Roy’s The Tin Flute and Margaret Laurence’s The Stone Angel make the top of the list.

The former, the first novel for Roy, is set during World War II, and revolves around Florentine Lacasse and her family, which consists of eleven siblings.  They reside in Saint-Henri, an impoverished part of Montreal.  They’re so poor, they often go without necessities, including much-needed healthcare.  Working at the Five and Ten, she flirts with Jean Levesque, a handsome man with ambitions, including living in Westmount, an affluent district on Mont Royal.  Florentine’s “unrefined” nature has Jean soon believing that she’d never succeed in the world he yearns and aims for—one that knows no poverty.  Eventually, he turns his back on her.  A provocative read, it’s not a happy-ending type of tale, yet it’s not a sad one, either, for happiness comes in many forms, contrived or otherwise.

The latter, The Stone Angel, written by Margaret Laurence in the 1960s, features Hagar Shipley as the protagonist.  The reader is pulled into this curious, obstinate woman’s life when, at the age of ninety, she recounts several decades.  Her inability to relent costs her in the relationship department with the different people in her life, including her father, brother, husband, and children.

An amazingly strong person, she’s also an unemotional one.  She refuses to take a softer line for anyone, even a dying brother.  To show feelings is to show weakness.  This stubborn if not detached approach to life and its challenges leads to many tragedies, some emotional/mental, some physical.  You have to feel for her, though, particularly in those later years.  Growing old and enduring all the trials that come with aging is difficult.  And life in a nursing home, at best, is pitiful.  Again, it’s not a happy-ending book, but it is an intelligent and thought-provoking read.

The two quintessential American books, in my humble opinion, are To Kill a Mockingbird (one of my all-time faves) and The Scarlet Letter.

Written in 1960, Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird is set in Alabama, and follows young Scout Finch and the adventures she undergoes with her brother, Jem.  Her father, Atticus, is a prominent lawyer, who rears both children with the help of Calpurnia, the cook and mother figure.  Finch determines to defend a town resident, a Black man named Tom Robinson, wrongly accused of rape.  He saves the man from being lynched by an angry, unthinking mob but can’t save him when he is shot while trying to escape custody.

Prejudices and biases exist on many levels, and Scout and Jem—and best friend, Dill, who visits every summer—hold their own in relation to a neighbor, Boo Radley, a man rarely seen in public.  Kids being kids, they create crazy stories about Boo; some are most unkind.  I’ve noted this previously I’m sure, but when reading Mockingbird, I can taste the sugar sandwiches, see small-town America, and feel the tension and prejudices.  It’s . . . tangible.

Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter was published in 1850 and is set two-hundred years prior.  It encompasses those early years in the great US of A . . . when challenges and struggles, puritan values, and religion and politics reigned with a iron fist.  It’s the story of Hester Prynne, a woman who had a child out of wedlock and must, as punishment, wear the letter “A”—for adulteress—on her garments.

Hester had thought herself a widow, but one day her husband arrives out of the blue.  The man becomes obsessed with finding out who the father of Hester’s daughter is.  When he discovers it’s a young and well-respected minister, he begins to plague him.  A tale of guilt and enlightenment, punishment and repentance, it provides an intriguing view into a time long ago.  How vastly things have changed.  Or have they?

The beauty of living in [relatively] independent times, is that we can make our own choices.  Perhaps your choice of books is vastly different from mine.  I love that we can agree to disagree.  Calmly, creatively, and/or collectively.  And maybe you’ll choose to celebrate quietly, by yourself, or with a close friend or family member.  Variety [truly] is the spice of life . . . is it not? 

Happy 1st and Happy 4th!  Embrace your independence . . . as a collective whole.  Have fun, stay safe, be kind, and forgiving. 

Space, the Final Frontier . . . These are the . . .

. . . stories of Christian Kallias. 

I’ve had the pleasure of editing a couple of Chris’ sci-fi books, so I thought, hey, why not provide a quick post?

Chris’ tales are action-packed with evil villains and frightening aliens galore—like the soul-sucking Spectres, who are wickedly creepy.  Of course, you’ll find AIs.  Morphing and regeneration, teleportation and telepathy keep things most interesting. The heroes/heroines, hailing from various planets/backgrounds, have their own personal and professional issues, but pull together when danger arrives and battle ensues.

Chris is a bestselling author of the award-winning Universe in Flames Space Opera series (gotta love that title).  He enjoys different sci-fi—space opera, military sci-fi, and sci-fi horror, to name a few.  Mythology is a love and you’ll find references throughout his many books (the Olympians, Argons, trojan horses), just as you’ll  discover references to different sci-fi shows and movies (such as Aliens, Predator, Star Trek, and Babylon 5).

In addition to being an author, Chris is a book cover designer . . . and a talented one, too.

I’m totally envious of his site (www.christiankallias.com).  His is what I’d love mine to look like—professional, crisp, clean.  One day . . . perhaps . . .

What I also like is the Patreon page; it’s for persons who’d like “early and direct access to my writing, as well as a ton of extras you won’t find in the books” (https://www.patreon.com/ChristianKallias).

You don’t have to be a lover of sci-fi to enjoy these exciting adventure-dense [space] sagas.

You can find Chris and his many works on several sites (in addition to the aforementioned), so here are three to get you started:

https://www.goodreads.com/series/177168-universe-in-flames

https://www.facebook.com/ChristianKallias/

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Christian-Kallias

Excellence in Everything . . .

Not perfection, but excellence—being exceptionally good at what one does or endeavors to do.

The last week or so, I’ve been reflecting on all that I’ve not achieved—of the things that didn’t happen, that could have been, should have been.  How silly and unproductive.  I suppose it’s because I’ve been a bit angry at not having been able to pursue my dreams because of my years devoted to helping other people one way or another.  Which is/was fine.  I did so out of the goodness of my heart and occasionally, I’ll readily admit, out of guilt.

Being annoyed—frustrated or irritated, or whatever the descriptive word may be—is okay.  Humans have emotions, feelings.  It’s good to release them in a productive [non-destructive] way.  Let the emotion(s) out: share what’s on your mind, stomp your feet, shriek/scream/cry, throw a piece of cake at the wall . . . and then laugh at the absurdity of it all.  Say, “Hey, suck it up!”  And do so.  You’re doing okay.  I’m doing okay.  Life’s full of challenges and learning curves.  Some get it sooner, some later.  (I’m, as they used to say, “a late bloomer”.)

In truth, I’d not be who I am now if I had realized my dreams and goals sooner.  So what if it’s taken me a few more years (decades) to learn and grow?  We all do so in our own time.  When we’re ready.

Honestly, I don’t believe I was ready before.  I didn’t have the maturity, the wisdom perhaps, to [properly] apply myself to those dreams and goals.  I’d have floundered big-time and, quite probably, have made some very wrong decisions that might have resulted in some very wrong outcomes.

My point re excellence is that I am trying to be better with every day—to excel at those things that I know I can.  I’ll never be perfect, but I can be very, very good.  As an editor, I’m always reviewing, always learning, always striving to help/guide writers.  As a person, I try to be kind and considerate . . .

Funny, how you start out with an idea for a post, and then you deviate.  The intention wasn’t to write about myself at all, and yet, I did.  I suppose I felt a [subconscious] need to purge/share.

Perhaps I was “influenced” this morning.  As I was scrolling through Facebook, I came across this at the moment I was thinking about being in “stuck” mode.

“God is saying to you today: ‘Everything will work out.  I’m in complete control.  Relax and let me finish what I had already started in your life.’”  (from TheLordMyShepherd)

I’m so in!