Paul Willis's Blog, page 2
July 15, 2017
Convention Aftermath (Literally)
The AFHE convention last Friday and Saturday was one of the best weekends of my life so far! I would have posted about it earlier in my free time, except that free time was taken up with financial stuff. We had to count and recount receipts and deduct sales tax and all the crazy calculations that make my head pound. But now, after math, I will reveal my crazy, awesome weekend!
I shared some pictures of the setup last week. Here are some more and some with customers!
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Crossroads featured next to my sister’s nice little book!
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Slightly further down the line (you can still see my book!) you can see we accept card payment… which has a long story attached. 
July 6, 2017
Setting Up a Convention Table!!
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That’s how weird I get when I’m excited.
Some author friends and I had the opportunity to purchase a booth space at the annual AFHE convention!
We are conglomerated as Generation Rising, and I got to make the website (with data entry assistance by my sister, Anna)!!!! Find it here if you haven’t already clicked one of the links before this. It was really fun to tile all our book covers there, but it’s even more fun to see them together in person.
Today Kate, Anna, and I hitched a ride with friends to the Phoenix convention center for setup. We weren’t able to complete the entire setup today, but we’ll have the rest of the materials and books tomorrow morning.
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The crowd
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Anna is severe when friends bend book covers…
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The partial setup
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Part of the team/authors making goofy faces or being very relaxed.
I will post more pics later! I gotta go before I pass out.
July 1, 2017
A Dream Come True
When a dream to someday hold a book of my own in my hands starts to come true with a wild story idea in June 2016,
then becomes a solid outline in October 2016,
transforms into a rough NaNoWriMo draft in November 2016,
presents itself as a many month editing trial,
appears on Amazon Kindle, Play Books, iBooks, Kobo, Nook, and Goodreads in June 2017 (a year after the initial idea),
the first paperback copy gets lost in the mail for a while,
and then…
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the dream is realized, I have to thank God. Without His provision, His blessing me with a brain, His opening of doors, and His gift of family and friends, this novel wouldn’t even have tried to happen.
And one small facet of the dream was especially realized. It’s an inch thick! It’s kinda goofy, but that means a lot to an author and it weighs a whole pound! Oh, and matte finish is the best.
June 23, 2017
Crossroads is live!
Howdy, y’all! I’m super excited to announce today that Crossroads is officially LIVE!
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The ebook is available on
Pick it up, read it, and leave a review!
The paperback will be available very, very soon… possibly by tomorrow. I’ll announce it too. To celebrate, I’m gonna give you the first few chapters starting… now.
Chapter 1: Death Forecast
Jack promised himself this would be the last time. He glanced grimly at his watch.
“Okay, Chris. I clock out in five.” He sealed the feed bag shut and hefted it onto the conveyor belt before facing his visitor.
Chris was grinning. “I’ll be waiting out front. And don’t look so apprehensive.”
“You wouldn’t want my help if I hadn’t learned to pick locks,” Jack muttered as he grabbed an empty bag from the stack and held it under the nearby hopper.
“Why’d you learn it in the first place if you weren’t going to use it?”
“To get out of scrapes, not into them,” Jack answered pointedly. “My coworker’s about to take the day shift. You’d better get out.”
Chris stepped out of the factory door and Jack turned his attention back to his work. He filled half a dozen more bags and then marked the number on the screen. Grabbing his jacket off a pile of empty crates, he stepped out of the way of a middle-aged woman.
“Bloyd,” she greeted him. “Have fun at school.”
Jack nodded silently. The woman spit tobacco on the factory floor before taking his previous position and started filling bags.
“I completed the custom order. Sent the feed down the line to the pallet builders,” Jack informed her. “I think I left everything in good order.”
She grunted and he excused himself. The night was unusually moist and wisps of ground fog floated over the dreary parking lot. Jack zipped his jacket up to his chin and yanked on the door of Chris’s old black truck.
“Hurry up, if you want to be able to sleep before school,” Chris said and held out a small lead case. Settling himself in the passenger seat, Jack unlatched his watch and removed his earpiece obediently. He placed them in the case and Chris snapped it shut.
“You know it’s risky for me even to disappear like this,” Jack said as he strapped in.
Chris put the truck in drive and stepped on the throttle. “Life is risky. And at least it’s safer than being tracked right to the crime scene.”
“Well, it’s no fair you have special tech.”
“My watch is exactly the same as yours, only modified.”
“Then it’s not the same. You don’t have to take it off,” Jack complained. Cars streaked past his window. Probably taking people to work. Or leaving the service yard and going to pick up their passengers.
“You know it’s different with me,” Chris said. The muscles in his jaw tightened. “You have people to care for, a bright future, and a stable job. I don’t.” He spun the wheel and the electric motor hummed with the acceleration as they skidded around a corner. “I can afford to live recklessly; I’m already hunted.”
Jack snorted.
“Are you familiar with this part of town?”
“No.” Jack sat up out of curiosity and peered ahead.
“I’ll park back here and we’ll walk.”
Jack got out and saw a large construction site close by; gigantic steel skeletons shrouded in the dense fog. He pulled the hood of his jacket further over his head for both warmth and secrecy and followed Chris.
“See,” Chris pointed at the construction fence surrounding the site, “No signs. Nothing marking what it is or who’s building it.”
“What’s the significance of that?” Jack was dubious.
“They must have something to hide. Now lower your voice,” Chris said as he gripped the top of the chainlink fence surrounding the structure and lifted himself up to straddle the top before dropping to the other side. “It’s definitely not top secret, since you can’t hide something like this; but my genius research tells me they have a government contract of some kind and they’re looking not to advertise what it’s all about. That leaves me with a lot of questions.”
Chris turned and walked quietly into the shadows. His dark skin merged into the night. Jack envied his natural concealment.
“Well, you didn’t exactly brief me on what we were going to do. I just hope I’m trespassing for a good reason. Maybe I should think through it next time and consider the consequences.” Jack tossed his backpack over the fence.
“Hey, we’ve never gone wrong before, have we?”
Jack grunted as he gripped the top of the fence and tried to follow Chris’s example. He succeeded, though much less smoothly and a lot more noisily. He slung his bag over his shoulder and caught up with Chris.
The building had multiple levels and a large floor plan. Jack bit his lower lip; it was hard to tell what it was going to be. It looked like some sort of multi-level warehouse or maybe a weird office complex.
“There’s where we’re going,” Chris indicated a construction trailer parked in the corner of the lot.
“You’re up,” He encouraged, pulling gloves onto his hands.
Jack sucked in a breath and adjusted his hood again. The makeshift steps leading up to the door of the trailer were unsteady but he braced himself against the doorframe and lowered his ear to the old tumbler lock. He removed a lock picking set from his backpack and began clicking pins down. A few seconds later the door swung slowly inward.
Chris turned on a tactical flashlight and swung the beam around the night shrouded interior before entering. His boots clicked softly on the unfinished floor. Dust danced in the bright beam of light as they searched the room. Jack found a desk and file cabinets. He opened the drawers one at a time with a gloved hand.
Chris was keeping watch at a window. “I guess there isn’t a guarantee they even keep them here, but―”
Jack held a roll of blueprints up to the light and Chris gave a thumbs up.
They pushed a tape measure and a coffee cup to the side and unrolled the plans on the desk. Jack squinted at the blue lines, trying to make sense of how they fit together.
Chris traced his finger along it, muttering under his breath.
“A furnace?” he wondered aloud.
Jack’s eyes fell on a cloud of fine print and it took a few moments for his mind to process their meaning.
“A cremation facility.”
Chris cursed, causing Jack to wince. Chris usually tried to keep down the profanity when he was around Jack, but anger often would cause him to forget.
Jack began to roll up the plans before he remembered to take a picture with his watch. He put them back where he had found them and locked the door behind them as they left.
Chris vaulted out of the enclosure, and Jack handed his backpack to him before scrambling back over the fence. It rattled behind him as he trotted after Chris. After a few moments he opened his mouth to speak, but Chris raised his hand to stop him. He froze and his ears perked up at the approaching sound. Sirens. They must have tripped an unknown alarm.
He sped past Chris. He had never considered himself a runner, but maybe he could have gone to the Olympics with this kind of motivation.
He stumbled as Chris grabbed his coat and jerked him backward. “Get in the ditch.”
They dove into a freshly dug utilities trench and laid in the bottom. The dirt was frozen in a bed of vertical crystals that crunched beneath Jack’s weight. His breath fogged over the cold ground. He shifted to his side and looked at the sky. A blue and red aurora flickered against the low clouds. Car doors slammed somewhere and he rolled into a tighter ball. It would be just his luck to be caught for something this worthless. That’s what came with rash decisions. Boots struck the pavement above.
Jack watched Chris. His face displayed concentration and his finger was pressed against his earpiece. He met Jack’s gaze. “They’re not here for us. Go to the truck.”
Jack slowly raised his head on level with the asphalt. Officers churned by, guns raised. His heart was in his throat but he swallowed it back.
“Do your best to avoid attention and suspicion,” Chris advised from behind.
They crawled out of the ditch behind an electrical pole. Jack brushed the dirt and ice from his jeans. They walked casually past the police. Jack kept his eye on them as he strolled toward a black pickup truck parked at the curbside. The officers had surrounded a nearby warehouse. It’s walls were thick with graffiti and moss. Every window was broken or barred.
“Gang trouble,” Chris whispered in explanation as he got in the driver’s seat.
Jack tossed his backpack in the back seat of the crew cab and got in the front. His first action was to turn on the heat. “That was scary.”
Chris put the truck into gear and his mouth tilted up into a grin.
“Okay then, smile about it. You’ve obviously got thrill issues,” Jack complained.
Chris still smiled.
“How’d you know they weren’t there for us?”
Chris tapped his earpiece, “I seem old, but I still know the police codes.”
“You’re not old, you’re barely in your forties.”
“I’m twice your age, son. That’s a considerable amount. And I’m definitely old, seeing as I still drive a manual. And a truck at that.”
“Okay, you win. You’re old but not very wise,” Jack teased. “I almost thought I wasn’t going home to my family.”
“You aren’t just yet. What do you want for breakfast?”
“I don’t care. What’s open this time of night?”
Minutes later they were eating fast food.
Chris took a bite and kept one hand on the steering wheel as he pulled out of the drive-thru and onto the road. He made a face and then commented, “It’s not the best but it goes down. And at least the meat’s not irradiated.”
“You don’t know it’s not,” Jack pointed out and then asked the question that had been haunting him, “What do you think the construction’s about?”
“I’ve got a hunch that facility ain’t just for old folks,” Chris grimaced. “They’ve got a government contract and it’s a big building. Why would our administration be expecting a sudden explosion in deaths? I mean, by all appearances, they’re prepping for an influx of bodies that need to be cared for, or rather disposed of.”
“Ugh. This probably isn’t one of your conspiracy theories. Anything could happen with our government.”
The warmth inside the vehicle had caused the windows to fog on the interior, and Jack rubbed his with a sleeve. The sleeping city would look fresh and new for a few blocks then dead and ugly for the next.
“Thanks for coming,” Chris said after a while. “God knows that I can’t pick a lock.”
“Yes, God knows quite a bit,” Jack quipped. He studiously avoided saying he was welcome.
They turned into a poor neighborhood. Small houses were crammed closely together, with cracked concrete driveways and weed-filled lawns.
The truck rolled to a gentle stop. Jack fished for his pack and opened his door.
“That was fun. Wasn’t it?” Chris prodded.
“Next time you want to polish the gold in Fort Knox, you just let me know,” Jack said sarcastically on his way out.
Chris winked. “I was thinking that would be fun this weekend. Will you be available?”
Jack shut the door.
Copyright © 2017 by Paul Willis
Stay tuned for more chapters and the announcement of the paperback!
June 10, 2017
Exciting Announcement! (& Free Book for Review)
My heart throbs… it beats really fast… I mean, it always does that, but right now I can actually feel it beating like really fast. Maybe I should get that checked but…
I got my cover!!! *dances* *falls flat on face*
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Isn’t that awesome??!!! Shout out to my amazing cover designer!
Exciting Announcement!
“Crossroads” is coming to publication on the 23rd! Tell your friends and mark as ‘to-read’ on Goodreads! I can’t wait for the paperback to be in. my. hands.
Free Book!
I’m giving away 20 digital copies of “Crossroads” for review!!! If you are 16+ and can review my novel on at least two online platforms, you are eligible to be on my advanced reader team.
The sign-ups are on a first come, first serve basis, so get in there and sign up! Here’s the link to the Google form if you’d like to share https://goo.gl/forms/8IUuebGdKJfoWGEp1
I’m so excited (and kinda exhausted) as release draws near. So much time and so little to do!
Strike that… reverse it. Thank you.
June 3, 2017
May Debriefing
Deep in the heart of the earth, in a dreary concrete bunker, I sit on a metal stool and prepare to be interrogated. There are questions I do not want to answer, but t he results of this debriefing will determine my future–my survival.
What did you accomplish this month?
A lot.
What do you mean “a lot”? You missed several deadlines and still haven’t shown any results.
I am still alive, what better results could I have?
Don’t hedge, we trim hedges around here. Tell us why you don’t have anything to show.
Ah, but I do. *tosses flash drive in the air*
That old draft? You should have left it in November.
OLD?!! It’s brand new! Sir, I’ve brought this thing to 75,000 words and am almost done editing. I didn’t make it to the drop point to get the file to my contact, but boy, I’ve gone through an estimated 2,000 comments!
I attended a top secret writer’s club as well as spent some writing time all alone at a wonderful Christian coffee shop. But, you know that. I smiled at your hidden cameras.
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With work like that and the extreme help of my beta readers, I completed the mission.
Completed? You’re not done yet.
We’re almost there though. I have several agents updating the file, and the manuscript is scheduled for formatting mid week. My cover designer is finalizing the cover as we speak. And I added “Crossroads” to Goodreads!
My questioner taps his desk. I can not tell if he is moved by my efforts. He thumbs through some papers and continues.
What did you learn this month? What intel did you gather?
Google mapped the Galapagos islands, trying to find some details for a friend.
I tried to find out how to break glass quietly–but unfortunately, my story character didn’t have the required tools.
Dove into my genealogy a bit–fascinating! I’m actually descended from humans!
Chest injuries. I’m counting broken ribs in my story… but ya know, getting crunched is part of the job description.
I’ve also been attending a class about business startups. The most recent class regarded the MVP, iterations of the MVP, and pivoting. Good stuff.
Towards, backwards, forwards and so on, are all British spellings. Backward Americans have moved toward just saying “forward”.
Most importantly I researched how long it takes to pass out in a chokehold… it really depends.
This face means I’m unimpressed. What did you waste time on?
What? I didn’t waste… it was all well spent!!
Then why so little productivity?
My job isn’t all about publishing–there are other important things like getting sick, spending Sundays at church, social events, water wars, nephews, building websites, oh and some life too. Life is made of dishes, school, laundry, cooking (really good food), and yard work.
Aaaaaaand… maybe I did waste a tiny bit of time. 
May 20, 2017
Crossroads: Jackson Bloyd
When it comes to naming characters, I draw maps, diagrams, scribbles, but ultimately blanks. I got this unusual one off the back of a cereal box. No, not really. But the story if I could remember it was probably that amazing. Maybe I was eating fast food when inspiration struck, because… I named my main character in Crossroads, Jack. Why did I take so long to say it? Maybe it’s shame.
It’s a fine name. In fact, it’s so fine it’s overused. Have an action story? Name the dude Jack. Have Tom Cruise? Name him Jack. Wait… did I just repeat myself?
But I have an excuse–my main character has a past that needs protection. As a young kid, he had to pick a new name, and he was just as brilliant as I am. ‘Jackson’ sounded cool, and once it was on paper, it was set in stone.
There’s a lot I want to tell you about him, but there’s very little I can without spilling secrets. Years ago I read a short story about Desmond Doss (World War II hero, congressional medal of honor recipient) and he was the first inspiration for this character. Their personalities and journeys are not the same, but their hearts are similar.
Anyway, since my blog has been taking on a spy look, I’ll let this file from CROS HQ speak for itself. It’s not complete and doesn’t include his operations records. In case you are wondering, the leader of CROS has a well-founded appreciation for paper, so they tend to use it for records.
(Final note, disclaimer, and warning: the picture may or may not be his real face.)
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And I quote from my obituary: “I’m sorry I’m late. I hope to never be two weeks late again.” I still hope that…
May 6, 2017
Podcast: Defining Your Writing Voice
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This is my first ever podcast!!!!!!!!!
And I did it in a submarine! (JK, but I plan to upgrade my mic in the future.)
In it, I share three thoughts on “defining your writing voice”.
#1. Your writing voice should be your character’s voice
#2. Your writing voice will vary by genre AND story length
#3. Your writing voice is YOUR voice
Intro/exit music: “Take a Chance” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 License creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/
Tell me in the comments what you think defines and affects YOUR writing voice. Nature or nurture?
May 2, 2017
April Debriefing
In a room lit by a single, flickering lightbulb over a cold steel table, I am about to be interrogated. I am not under court martial–yet. The results of this debriefing will determine my future.
What did you work on this month?
Lots of things. Lots and lots of things. Projects, chores, education, projects…
I made a couple book trailers: one for a friend, one as practice. I’m learning to shorten them and word them better. And music! The creative commons music I’ve been downloading and sorting through for future trailers is awesome!
Oh, and not to mention… I worked on Crossroads during Camp NaNoWriMo! We’re nearing 40,000 words on the rewrite, sir! I think regular editing will be fun.
April 26, 2017
Obituary of the Late Paul Willis
Phoenix — Paul Willis’ regular posting stopped April 8th after a lengthy struggle with aggressive writer’s block.
Paul Willis is a veteran of NaNoWriMo, where he brought his first novel’s first draft to over 50,000 words. He grew up on the planet called earth, the only son of his mother and father. As a child, he was really irritating and played with LEGO. As he grew older, he began to take reading seriously. After two of his sisters published, he vicariously felt the excitement of holding one’s own book and knew that was what he wished to happen. Thus he took a mental stride and carved his first word with a Ticonderoga pencil. His engraved handwriting was legendary among his family.
He served one month as a wrimo in November of 2016, including wordsprints and laborious candy eating. He re-enlisted in the spring of 2017 but was soon diagnosed with stage 3 writer’s block. The frustration and mental affects have not left him, as friends and family will attest.
He is survived by his parents, seven-some-odd sisters, and many writer friends who occasionally offer their condolences.
Services will not be held tomorrow at 2am (since all of his writer friends will be busy at that hour), and he will be interned at his own unprofitable business.
A final note from the will of the late Paul Willis: “I’m sorry I’m late. I hope to never be two weeks late again.”
