David Rory O'Neill's Blog, page 7

The big book.

My great literary hero was John Steinbeck and I’ve recently been re-reading the 1994 biography by Jay Parini. (ISBN 0434 574929)

I was struck once again by how Steinbeck’s early family experience influenced him all his life. He was deeply insecure about his work. There is much talk in his letters to friends about writing “the great American novel” or “the big book.”

That started me thinking about the idea of “the great novel”. The big book, the literary striving blood, sweat and tears, heart and soul BIG BOOK!

In this age of mass indi publishing, that idea has become outmoded.

I wonder how many writers have that kind of ambition anymore. How many of the thousands of works published are simply ordinary people wanting their voices to be heard; wanting their story told.

It is said, we all have one book in us. I don’t agree with that sentiment. Most people can’t write a novel that can stand any kind of serious scrutiny.

Most of the work out there is not literature in the accepted sense. That’s why serious writers who choose the Indi route, have a huge struggle trying to get seen by established mainstream critics and the literary establishment. The idea that all self publishing is but vanity is deeply ingrained and will take many years to undermine.

The dilemma faced by those of us who aspire to write real literature, the big novel, is the perennial issue faced by all writers. Do we struggle with the gatekeepers and hope we may find the right agent or publisher and perhaps face a lifetime of rejection – or do we choose swimming in the vast pool of pap and vanity that floods the Indi market, all the while trying to rise to the top by offering properly edited and designed work that stands comparison with any mainstream published output?

I have written my big book. My great novel is out there and has gotten great reviews from real readers but it’s never likely to be seen by mainstream critics or Booker judges or anyone else who decides what is and is not great literature.

The great novel.

Unlike Steinbeck, I am not insecure about my work. Of the twelve works I’ve already published, I know one stands comparison with any mainstream work. The Prairie Companions is the best thing I’ve ever done and the best thing I think I will ever do.

Steinbeck’s last big book, the one he sweated blood over and the one he kept a great journal about writing was: East of Eden.

The Prairie Companions is my East of Eden and I am about to launch a big publicity drive to try to help it rise to the top of the great Indi pond.

I may or may not succeed, but I am content. I’ve written my big book, the great novel. I was going to say the great Irish novel. But though I am Irish, the novel is not. It’s universal.

Shakespeare on Indie.

To be read, or not to be read, that is the question:

Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous obscurity,

Or to take arms against a sea of gatekeepers

And by opposing end them. To dream—to hope,

No more; and by a rejection slip to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That writers are heir to: ’tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish’d. To self publish, to print;

To be in print, perchance to be read—ay, there’s the rub:

For in that print of death what dreams may come,

When we have shuffled off this old publishers way,

Must give us pause—there’s the respect

That makes calamity for those who wait acceptance.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of agents,

Th’oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,

The pangs of dispriz’d rejection, the publishers delay,

The insolence of office, and the spurns

That patient merit of th’unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a Kindle Fire? Who would rejection slips hundreds bear,

To grunt and sweat under a weary keyboard,

But that the dread of something after failure,

The undiscovere’d country, from whose bourn

No traveller returns, puzzles the will,

And makes us rather print our self and sell

Than fly to booksellers that we know not of?

Thus rejection does make cowards of us all,

And thus the native hue of endless waiting

Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprises of great pitch and moment

With this regard their currents turn awry

And lose the name of Random House for the devil that is Amazon.

This was done for a friend who was worrying about publising wars that so many are fretting about now.

With only mild appologies to Will.

Do you need help?

What now?

Do you need help with any aspect of Indie writing and publishing? Just ask.

I’m not offering a business service just the helping hand I wish I’d had when I started on the difficult road to getting my work read.

It’s a learning curve that never stops. I made mistakes and I learned from those that went before me in this new and exciting world of indie publishing.

I’m paying it forward.

If you have questions, just ask and I’ll do my best to help, it’s that simple.

Mail me at davidrory@eircom (dot) net

What if ?

I had a kind of brain storm a few days ago begining with the words: What if.

Bonny imagined. (Loosely based on an image of model Denise Milani)

I was looking at the image of the character Bonny that I’d created on Photoshop some time ago for a possible cover. It was never used. The Daniel series, in which she was a main player, is finished. I thought I’d said farewell to her.   But what if? What if Bonny had never met Daniel and Lauren? What if she’d taken a very different path? What would her story be then?

Bang! Bonny’s back. The plot was suddenly there almost complete. The idea excited me and it did the same for B when I told her so… I’m now writing two novels at the same time.

I jump from one to the other with no problem. ‘Skellig Testament’ is very different from ‘Bonny’ so I’ve had no issues so far, other than needing to pace myself so as not suffer back ache.

There will be a new trilogy called: What If?  The first is simply called Bonny, the next Lauren, the final Daniel.  The same basic characters but on new paths, new stories, new loves and excitements, new ways of developing and all offering beguiling possibilities.

I will continue to write two books at a time, as I have a few more novellas planned too. The juices are flowing.

Why can’t I read?

When I am writing, which has been constantly for this past six years, I find it near impossible to read as I once did. I used to read three or four books a week at my peak and dip into non-fiction and magazines every day. Every night I would struggle to find sleep as a novel demanded I finish it.  It has to be said that problem ceased when I met my beloved ‘B’. Then other things kept us from sleep. My reading fell off a bit then and oh how wonderful that was and is!

Now I’m sorry to get personal but, one place I always read and still do is when sitting in the smallest room surrounded by tiles, white porcelain and activity best ignored. Many I times I emerged with a deep ring embossed on the flesh of my thighs having become immersed in my reading.

When I joined Goodreads and had to try to recall all I’d read, I was suddenly confronted with what a huge number that is. Literally impossible to accurately recall.  A bit of maths and averages suggests a number over 22,000!

But in the past six years I’ve read no more than four or five novels. I still dip into non-fiction often as research and I’ve read much on-line as part of that research, but novels newspapers and magazines have been all but abandoned. Why?

The Pastures of Heaven.
1946 ed.

I was made aware of this two days ago when I picked up a little book from my library that was published in the UK in 1945, during the war. ‘Book Production War Economy Standard’ by Quality Press Ltd London. This little volume is yellow with age, the cover is protected by a film of clear plastic, the title is only on the spine and reads: The Pastures of Heaven. John Steinbeck.

I bought it in a second-hand book shop in Smithfield Market, Belfast, when it was already nearing twenty years old. I now read it again for the first time in twenty years.

I was shocked by how it touched me.  This was one of the first works by Steinbeck I read, I went on to collect and read all his work. I read a few of the short stories in it to ‘B’ as we lay in bed and she said, “I see where you found your poetry and the concise but powerful way you write. You do not mimic Steinbeck but you share his way of seeing and his ability to mine the language for gems of meaning.”

Ok that’s a paraphrase of what she said, but it stunned me and made me see why I don’t read novels now. I am reluctant to have my voice tainted or my creative process coloured by other writers voices.

I also don’t want my imaginative living of my characters and plot blunted by intrusions from the pages of another’s imagination. Unless it’s Steinbeck.

So to all my fellow writers whose work remains unread I say: sorry but until I dry up, that’s how it will remain.

 

Cover art.

Stefano’s art as used on Passion

Finding art to use on covers is always a challenge if one strives to be original and not use stock photography.  The recent overhaul of all my covers needed images. Most of these were found by my talented cover designer Samantha at ebookcoversgalore.  Between us we managed to create original covers that I think do the work justice.  It was a co-operative effort that demonstrated the need to create a good relationship with your designer.

When it came to the seven Daniel series novels we were stumped at first. We needed a theme to run through them all and we needed cover images that suggested the subjects.

After much searching I found the work of a fractal artist: Stefano Popovski. on deviant-art and made contact. He generously agreed to let us use any of his images we needed. I was able to find images that perfectly suited the novels. Some are very abstract, all are fascinating and all are fabulous pieces of Stefano’s art.

Trial

Finding an artist who will allow his work to be used as a co-operative venture in this way was a refreshing and encouraging thing. I hope we can offer each other mutual help and I look forward to working with him on future projects.

Any designers or authors looking for great art should pay Stefano a visit.

A big departure.

The Deeplies of Deeplie Dell.

I call this a big departure but on reflection, it’s not really. It’s just another form of story telling in the: ‘once upon a time’ tradition.

This children’s picture ebook is meant to be read to very young children and is meant to encourage older kids to explore language.  The sound of langauge that is. I’ve used a lot of alliteration in this that sounds fun when spoken. The images are fun too and I hope kids will enjoy the silliness of the pictures.

There is a small series in this but I’ll wait for some feedback before doing the next.

Any of you with young children or grandchildren, please do let me know how this works with them.

Catch the omnibus.

The West Cork Trilogy omnibus edition.

I have begun to create a few omnibus editions of my work. The natural place to start was the West Cork Trilogy.  Those three fit beautifully.  I’ll be interested to see how many readers take advantage of the savings and convenience of having an omnibus edition.

The next omnibus will be the Daniel series, those seven novels will need two volumes. I don’t think I can cram all seven into one file, it would take for ever to download.

I will then do an omnibus of all the novellas.

Another genre buster!

The latest novella.

My first venture into new genre is out now. It was meant to be straight Erotica but it turns out I can’t be as blatantly commercial as I thought. The novella ended up with greater depth than is normal in this genre. So it’s ‘Literary romantic erotica’ and yes I know that genre is not on Amazon but it’s what this work is.

It’s only $1.99 so hardly a great risk for the reader.

Heritage.

Saturday the 17th August 2013 was Cork City Heritage open day.  A unique event celebrating the architecture and history of the built heritage of the city. Many buildings not normally open to the public were opened for the day, many had special events and guided tours. We could not miss this.

I will not go into detail here about the many buildings Brigitte and I visited on a walking tour of the city that left us foot sore but delighted we’d taken the opportunity for what we called; “Le Grand Neb and Gawp.” Neb means nose and gawp means stare, for those who’ve not read Bonny’s words in my books.

View from battlemant

We started the day at Elizabeth Fort. This was built on a limestone outcrop in 1601 during Elizabethan times. It dominates the city below, as it was meant to. The citizens of Cork took exception and they tore it done in 1603 but were made to rebuild it at their own expense. The present stone fort was started in 1624 and remained in use as a military base until 1835 when it was used as a female prison.  In more recent times it has served as Police Barracks for the Garda. They are in the process of leaving now and are handing it over to a heritage trust. Public access should be possible in future.

 

Saint Finn Barre’s.

The walls give wonderful views of the city and on to Saint Finn Barre’s Cathedral. The fort shares the same  rock outcrop. This place features in the novella I’m writing now called: Skellig Testament about a young man who comes to Finn Barre’s monastery to join his order about the year 620 before going on to an ascetic life on an isolated island called Skellig.  As I stood looking down on what would have been the old Cork settlement island, I was imaging what the place would have looked like in his times. Finn Barre’s settlement marked the birth of the city and it would have been laid out not unlike the map from 1545 shown above.

 

View over Shandon.

Another place that features in my writing is The Shandon Clock tower, nicknamed ‘the four faced liar’. It appears in Beauty’s Price:  “She stared around looking for clues and tried in vain to remember what had happened to her. She stood, opened the curtains, and peered out blinking at the gray moist day. She could see a clock tower over the houses and the words: The four faced liar came to her. She wondered what that meant, then suddenly she remembered that was the nickname for the Shandon clock: Cork, ”I’m in Cork.”A flood of memories came as she staggered back and lay on the bed. She relived the shooting of her husband and Regan’s face on the TV.”

The tower got it’s name because the four faces of the clock are buffeted by winds and never agree about the time.

This county of Cork near the province of Munster’s principal, city has been home to Brigitte and I for some time now. She has more right to call it home than an Ulsterman. Her ancestors, the Doyle’s were merchants here in the 1750′s.  She said she felt at home the first time I brought her, soon after we met, but we never imagined we’d end up living here.

O’Neill crest.

“Ulster by birth, Munster by choice,” has become a refrain for me when people we meet ask why I live here. My ancestor Hugh O’Neill came south to fight an Elizabethan army at Kinsale, then occupied by the Spanish. Those Spanish allies betrayed him and he lost the battle in a war he had been winning. That led to the total and brutal domination of the country by the English and changed Irish history profoundly.  I often wonder how different all our lives would have been if the Spanish had gotten off their asses and joined the bold Hugh to defeat the English army.  Maybe I’d be writing this in Spanish or Irish or French or… there is novel there somewhere!