Mark R. Hunter's Blog, page 76
January 18, 2016
If you can’t laugh at winter, at least laugh at Valentine’s Day
If you’re looking for a Valentine’s Day gift and you’re sick of chocolate or flowers, or chocolate flowers (like anyone could be sick of chocolate), the humor anthology My Funny Valentine is still available. I’m one of the contributors to the book, which seeks to tickle the rib of the one you love.
If your loved one has an e-reader, the Kindle version is just $2.99. If they don’t have one, don’t be cheap—buy them one. If they already have one, be cheap. Or, you could get the print version for $9.95 at Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/My-Funny-Valent...
I still have a few copies, so get in touch if you’d like one from me—I might even cut you a deal. After all, it might be devalued by the graffiti of my signature.
If you got that book for them last year, it’s treading thin ice to do it again—they’ll probably notice. But you could always pick up one of my romantic comedies for the loving one you love. It goes without saying that you can find all my books at www.markrhunter.com … but I said it anyway.
If your loved one has an e-reader, the Kindle version is just $2.99. If they don’t have one, don’t be cheap—buy them one. If they already have one, be cheap. Or, you could get the print version for $9.95 at Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/My-Funny-Valent...
I still have a few copies, so get in touch if you’d like one from me—I might even cut you a deal. After all, it might be devalued by the graffiti of my signature.
If you got that book for them last year, it’s treading thin ice to do it again—they’ll probably notice. But you could always pick up one of my romantic comedies for the loving one you love. It goes without saying that you can find all my books at www.markrhunter.com … but I said it anyway.
January 16, 2016
Amazon Rankings Rankle Writers
The first book sale I made this year—that I know of—was on January 12th. This does not bode well for my world conquest plans. By “world conquest”, I mean “day job retirement”.
However, it’s the “that I know of” part that’s important, here. Since January 1st I personally haven’t sold any copies of my seven books, and Amazon has recorded only two sales as of the 14th. But I have no way of knowing how many may have sold through various websites, including those of my publishers, or online booksellers. I have no idea how many copies of Images of America: Albion and Noble County may have sold at the brick and mortar Barnes and Noble in Fort Wayne, or indeed if they’re still stocking it. I haven’t checked on whether any sold at the several other locations that carry one or more of my books.
So an author shouldn't stress about Amazon rankings: Assuming they’re accurate, they’re only one of many channels through which readers may buy your books.
Still, sometimes it’s not easy to find out how you're doing—even for self-published authors, who have a more direct channel. Some authors believe online sellers don’t accurately report sales … by accident, or on purpose. For those published more traditionally that worry remains, if you’re the untrusting sort. If you’re the trusting sort, the untrusting will say you’re too trusting. That’s probably true.
What about traditional publishing? How many copies of my latest book were moved by Arcadia Publishing, for instance?
I dunno.
Arcadia did an initial print run of 1,200 copies of Images of America: Albion and Noble County. I can count up how many I moved at various signings, and how many local retailers sold, but the publisher’s total numbers are something else. You see, most publishers give a quarterly royalty statement, but it’s delayed a quarter—much like not getting your first paycheck on a new job right away. My book came out in August: If the end of that quarter was September. I won’t get my first royalty statement (and payment) until after they’ve done their number crunching at the end of the quarter after that. That means my sales numbers could come in any time now … or, if they wait for full quarters, not until around mid-April. And who knows? I might only earn a quarter.
With self-published works that all comes a bit sooner, of course. Still, there are three big lessons to learn from this:
1. In all aspects of the writing and publishing biz, patience is a virtue.
2. Assuming you ever get rich, expect your riches to be delayed.
3. Don’t stress out over Amazon rankings.
I should probably write that last one down and tape it to my computer monitor.
However, it’s the “that I know of” part that’s important, here. Since January 1st I personally haven’t sold any copies of my seven books, and Amazon has recorded only two sales as of the 14th. But I have no way of knowing how many may have sold through various websites, including those of my publishers, or online booksellers. I have no idea how many copies of Images of America: Albion and Noble County may have sold at the brick and mortar Barnes and Noble in Fort Wayne, or indeed if they’re still stocking it. I haven’t checked on whether any sold at the several other locations that carry one or more of my books.
So an author shouldn't stress about Amazon rankings: Assuming they’re accurate, they’re only one of many channels through which readers may buy your books.
Still, sometimes it’s not easy to find out how you're doing—even for self-published authors, who have a more direct channel. Some authors believe online sellers don’t accurately report sales … by accident, or on purpose. For those published more traditionally that worry remains, if you’re the untrusting sort. If you’re the trusting sort, the untrusting will say you’re too trusting. That’s probably true.
What about traditional publishing? How many copies of my latest book were moved by Arcadia Publishing, for instance?
I dunno.
Arcadia did an initial print run of 1,200 copies of Images of America: Albion and Noble County. I can count up how many I moved at various signings, and how many local retailers sold, but the publisher’s total numbers are something else. You see, most publishers give a quarterly royalty statement, but it’s delayed a quarter—much like not getting your first paycheck on a new job right away. My book came out in August: If the end of that quarter was September. I won’t get my first royalty statement (and payment) until after they’ve done their number crunching at the end of the quarter after that. That means my sales numbers could come in any time now … or, if they wait for full quarters, not until around mid-April. And who knows? I might only earn a quarter.
With self-published works that all comes a bit sooner, of course. Still, there are three big lessons to learn from this:
1. In all aspects of the writing and publishing biz, patience is a virtue.
2. Assuming you ever get rich, expect your riches to be delayed.
3. Don’t stress out over Amazon rankings.
I should probably write that last one down and tape it to my computer monitor.
January 12, 2016
Campfire Review
We closed out 2015 with a great review of The No-Campfire Girls:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-rev...
Very nice, and we may see main character Beth and her family in another story sometime soon! I always have plans, see. Meanwhile, don’t forget that half the profits for sales of The No-Campfire Girls go toward the continued operation of Camp Latonka, Emily’s former Girl Scout camp in Missouri. (The other half go toward writing the next book.)
http://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-rev...
Very nice, and we may see main character Beth and her family in another story sometime soon! I always have plans, see. Meanwhile, don’t forget that half the profits for sales of The No-Campfire Girls go toward the continued operation of Camp Latonka, Emily’s former Girl Scout camp in Missouri. (The other half go toward writing the next book.)
January 11, 2016
Under (sinus) Pressure
When I woke up, I could feel in my sinuses that the weather was changing—again. Not exactly a superpower. Then I went outside, skidded across the porch, pried open the car door, got the car started (barely), and chipped ice off the mirrors while it warmed up and charged the battery.
Ah, winter.
But what I hadn’t expected was the way I felt after being outside for half an hour. Although overall I haven’t started feeling better from the sinus surgery yet (12 weeks to a year), I have been able to breathe through my nose much better. I think that actually works against me in weather like this.
In short, I’m not going out again until time to head to work in the snow tonight. But feeling under the weather (heh) is something we all go through. It doesn’t keep me from today’s task, which is to go through our vast collection of photos to pick out pictures for the Indiana history humor book. It’s bicentennial year—time’s a-wasting.
Ah, winter.
But what I hadn’t expected was the way I felt after being outside for half an hour. Although overall I haven’t started feeling better from the sinus surgery yet (12 weeks to a year), I have been able to breathe through my nose much better. I think that actually works against me in weather like this.
In short, I’m not going out again until time to head to work in the snow tonight. But feeling under the weather (heh) is something we all go through. It doesn’t keep me from today’s task, which is to go through our vast collection of photos to pick out pictures for the Indiana history humor book. It’s bicentennial year—time’s a-wasting.
January 10, 2016
Author Kay Kauffman Answers Seven Questions
I’m way behind on this—by which I mean, a month and a half behind—but here’s another instalment of Simon Goodson’s “The Seventh Question”, this time featuring fantasy author Kay Kauffman:
http://www.simongoodson.com/the-seven...
“I’ve had a lot of fun peeling back his layers to see what makes him tick.”
Kay has published two poetry collections and has short stories published in three anthologies.
http://www.simongoodson.com/the-seven...
“I’ve had a lot of fun peeling back his layers to see what makes him tick.”
Kay has published two poetry collections and has short stories published in three anthologies.
January 8, 2016
Plot Trek: The Next Exposition
While polishing the final draft of Beowulf: In Harm’s Way, I encountered an interesting problem that somehow escaped me through every previous run through of the story. Here’s the current opening:
A red light flashed on the shuttle's control board.
Lieutenant Commander Paul Gage leaned forward, his hands still on the little craft's controls. “What did I do?”
Beside him, Kurt Biermann shook his head. “Nothing, Skipper—that's a comm alert from the bridge.”
“Well, it’s damned inconvenient when I'm trying to get recertified as a shuttle pilot.” Thank goodness they were parked in his ship’s shuttle bay, in a simulation instead of flight. Gage hadn’t piloted anything since … since the incident. Since the start of the war.
From the copilot’s seat, the real pilot chuckled. “You know, a ship's captain doesn't have to know how to fly a shuttle. Since I'm usually up at the Beowulf’s helm, I'm the one who should be practicing down here.”
“I ordered cross-training, so I cross-train.” Gage punched the comm button. He’d also ordered random drills, and it would be bad form if he didn’t show up for battle stations. Second Lieutenant. Biermann, who no doubt didn’t expect to train anyone in the course of a shakedown cruise in a ship with only forty-two crewmembers, looked relieved.
“Damage control stations, all hands, we have a fire in engineering. This is not a drill.”
While Gage punched the shuttle's hatch open and leaped out, he noticed Biermann no longer looked relieved.
Okay, so we’ve opened with a scene of action, introducing the main character and one of the major secondary characters. We’ve established that we’re on a ship called Beowulf, and that all is not necessarily well aboard that ship. So, what’s wrong with this opening?
Here’s what’s wrong: Throughout the rest of the story, Paul Gage never pilots the shuttle, or anything else.
My purpose for the scene was to make it clear that Paul is training his crew hard and well … and to open with a scene of action. (The frakking ship’s on fire!) And that’s fine, but it plainly violates the rule of Chekhov’s gun.
No, not that Chekhov … get your mind out of the starship. This from Anton Chekhov: “If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it's not going to be fired, it shouldn't be hanging there.”
The Beowulf’s shuttle just hangs there in the shuttle bay, and never goes off.
There are a few changes I could make to correct this problem. I could start the story with the fire itself, which is fairly minor but begins a chain of events that leads to major changes aboard ship. Or, I could start the story earlier, maybe with the “incident” Paul refers to from the start of the war. The problem with that is that the incident itself would be almost book length. I should know: I wrote a version of it many years ago.
Or, I could start the story at about the time Paul gets command of the newly constructed Beowulf and assembles his crew. This is obviously related to the main story. In fact, some of it is already written in some short stories, which I intended to release for publicity when the book comes out. Not only that, but right now the book manuscript is 62,000 words, so it could stand to be longer.
But that time period is largely recovery (from the incident) and introductions—could I find the right scene of action to start a novel? Or am I stressing too much about the action part?
I’m still considering it, and will consider it more when other readers have a chance to review the story. For right now, I’ve handled the problem with a single line toward the end of the book, which takes Chekhov’s Law and throws it on its Russian ear. After all, the book is a humorous space opera, and that’s not the only time I take story conventions for a ride.
Just not a ride in the shuttle.
A red light flashed on the shuttle's control board.
Lieutenant Commander Paul Gage leaned forward, his hands still on the little craft's controls. “What did I do?”
Beside him, Kurt Biermann shook his head. “Nothing, Skipper—that's a comm alert from the bridge.”
“Well, it’s damned inconvenient when I'm trying to get recertified as a shuttle pilot.” Thank goodness they were parked in his ship’s shuttle bay, in a simulation instead of flight. Gage hadn’t piloted anything since … since the incident. Since the start of the war.
From the copilot’s seat, the real pilot chuckled. “You know, a ship's captain doesn't have to know how to fly a shuttle. Since I'm usually up at the Beowulf’s helm, I'm the one who should be practicing down here.”
“I ordered cross-training, so I cross-train.” Gage punched the comm button. He’d also ordered random drills, and it would be bad form if he didn’t show up for battle stations. Second Lieutenant. Biermann, who no doubt didn’t expect to train anyone in the course of a shakedown cruise in a ship with only forty-two crewmembers, looked relieved.
“Damage control stations, all hands, we have a fire in engineering. This is not a drill.”
While Gage punched the shuttle's hatch open and leaped out, he noticed Biermann no longer looked relieved.
Okay, so we’ve opened with a scene of action, introducing the main character and one of the major secondary characters. We’ve established that we’re on a ship called Beowulf, and that all is not necessarily well aboard that ship. So, what’s wrong with this opening?
Here’s what’s wrong: Throughout the rest of the story, Paul Gage never pilots the shuttle, or anything else.
My purpose for the scene was to make it clear that Paul is training his crew hard and well … and to open with a scene of action. (The frakking ship’s on fire!) And that’s fine, but it plainly violates the rule of Chekhov’s gun.
No, not that Chekhov … get your mind out of the starship. This from Anton Chekhov: “If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it's not going to be fired, it shouldn't be hanging there.”
The Beowulf’s shuttle just hangs there in the shuttle bay, and never goes off.
There are a few changes I could make to correct this problem. I could start the story with the fire itself, which is fairly minor but begins a chain of events that leads to major changes aboard ship. Or, I could start the story earlier, maybe with the “incident” Paul refers to from the start of the war. The problem with that is that the incident itself would be almost book length. I should know: I wrote a version of it many years ago.
Or, I could start the story at about the time Paul gets command of the newly constructed Beowulf and assembles his crew. This is obviously related to the main story. In fact, some of it is already written in some short stories, which I intended to release for publicity when the book comes out. Not only that, but right now the book manuscript is 62,000 words, so it could stand to be longer.
But that time period is largely recovery (from the incident) and introductions—could I find the right scene of action to start a novel? Or am I stressing too much about the action part?
I’m still considering it, and will consider it more when other readers have a chance to review the story. For right now, I’ve handled the problem with a single line toward the end of the book, which takes Chekhov’s Law and throws it on its Russian ear. After all, the book is a humorous space opera, and that’s not the only time I take story conventions for a ride.
Just not a ride in the shuttle.
January 4, 2016
Lord of the Lost?
I had a dream this morning (possibly fueled by pain medication) that led me to an idea for a novel, kind of a science fiction mix of Lord of the Flies and the TV show Lost. Then I realized it could be turned into a book series.
That would be about the thirtieth idea I’ve had for stories that could be turned into a series. Even if I won the lottery and started writing 80 hours a week right now, I’d die of old age before I could get to book 2 of most of them.
Not that I wouldn’t mind trying.
That would be about the thirtieth idea I’ve had for stories that could be turned into a series. Even if I won the lottery and started writing 80 hours a week right now, I’d die of old age before I could get to book 2 of most of them.
Not that I wouldn’t mind trying.
January 3, 2016
2015: A Rear-End Review
In all the fuss about setting goals for 2016, I forgot to mention how things went for me in 2015.
Things sucked.
Well, okay, not totally. The last two months were so bad they kind of colored the rest of the year. November was full of family illnesses, injuries, and terrorist attacks. (The terrorist attacks weren’t family related.) December was full of surgical instruments in my sinuses. Still, my ENT mentioned in passing that the surgery would be getting particularly close to my eyes and brain, and since all were functioning at the same level afterward, I’d call it a win.
During the same period, I was of mixed feelings about the weather. It was unseasonably warm, but I was too sick/in recovery to go out and enjoy it As far as my heating bill is concerned, still a plus.
So, let’s review: We survived autumn, the weather was nice, and my gas bill was lower. I got outside a lot during summer, and even took my first horse ride in 35 years, and survived. Emily got a job working with horses, which she loves and which tells you how I ended up on one. I injured my back badly in June, which gave me more writing time (because I couldn’t do anything else). We saw several funnel clouds during a storm, but none caused damage (or swept us off to Oz).
Meanwhile, in 2015 I got two books published: Images of America: Albion and Noble County, which as far as I can tell is selling pretty well, and Slightly Off the Mark, which … isn’t, but there’s always next year. Excuse me, this year.
Overall, I have to say most of 2015 held its own. Could 2016 be better? Well, my first work shift of the year was horrible, so maybe it's all downhill from there. But it’s a presidential election year … so don’t count on it.
Things sucked.
Well, okay, not totally. The last two months were so bad they kind of colored the rest of the year. November was full of family illnesses, injuries, and terrorist attacks. (The terrorist attacks weren’t family related.) December was full of surgical instruments in my sinuses. Still, my ENT mentioned in passing that the surgery would be getting particularly close to my eyes and brain, and since all were functioning at the same level afterward, I’d call it a win.
During the same period, I was of mixed feelings about the weather. It was unseasonably warm, but I was too sick/in recovery to go out and enjoy it As far as my heating bill is concerned, still a plus.
So, let’s review: We survived autumn, the weather was nice, and my gas bill was lower. I got outside a lot during summer, and even took my first horse ride in 35 years, and survived. Emily got a job working with horses, which she loves and which tells you how I ended up on one. I injured my back badly in June, which gave me more writing time (because I couldn’t do anything else). We saw several funnel clouds during a storm, but none caused damage (or swept us off to Oz).
Meanwhile, in 2015 I got two books published: Images of America: Albion and Noble County, which as far as I can tell is selling pretty well, and Slightly Off the Mark, which … isn’t, but there’s always next year. Excuse me, this year.
Overall, I have to say most of 2015 held its own. Could 2016 be better? Well, my first work shift of the year was horrible, so maybe it's all downhill from there. But it’s a presidential election year … so don’t count on it.
January 1, 2016
Forget Resolutions: Try Goals
I don’t have this peculiar, almost pathological hatred of New Year’s resolutions some people have. Maybe that’s because I haven’t made one since 1989, and so haven’t experienced the loathing that comes with breaking them.
Still, I do set goals. I’m not sure what the differences is, except that resolutions come with a party hat and a large cup of questionable liquid. Goals should never be made while under the influence of booze, parties, or trying to impress woman. (Or men.)
My first goal for 2016 is, in theory, an easy one: to get published at least twice. Since 2011 I’ve had seven books published, which works out to … um … well, less than two books a year. (Now that I think about it, my 1989 resolution was to get better at math.)
It’s an easy goal in theory, because I’m already shopping three completed novels to agents and editors. With two more almost done, I could switch to independent publishing and get two out this year. The problem comes with finding time to write more books. By my count, if I don’t produce more manuscripts, I’ll run out in … um … a few years. So the next goal is the hard one: complete at least the first drafts of two more books by 2017. It’s a good thing I dedicated myself to writing full time. It’s a bad thing I still have my day job, which I work at night.
My next goal is to lose 35 pounds by spring. I’m not doing this for me: I’m doing this because my doctor told me to and, more importantly, my wife found out my doctor told me to. So this is a selfless act, something I’m doing for them. You fans, stop sending chocolate and chips to my home. Send them to my workplace, care of me. My day job workplace.
My final goal is to declutter my life, which translates to decluttering my house. Like many people who grew up poor, I can’t stand to throw anything away. “This broken 8-track player could be repaired! Suppose I lost my job, and this was my only way to listen to music?”
There’s a certain irony that many lower middle class people have more stuff than rich people do. When something breaks for a rich person, they throw it away; when something breaks for a less than rich person, they put it in the garage “just in case”. I do this despite the fact that I have absolutely no ability to ever repair anything.
Here’s another way to put it: If you keep something because you might need it someday, but when you finally do need it you have so much stuff you can’t find it—keeping it was pointless.
So my goals for 2016 amount to more writing and less of everything else. See? I boiled it down to one sentence, and left the resolutions to the United Nations. You might say I decluttered already.
Still, I do set goals. I’m not sure what the differences is, except that resolutions come with a party hat and a large cup of questionable liquid. Goals should never be made while under the influence of booze, parties, or trying to impress woman. (Or men.)
My first goal for 2016 is, in theory, an easy one: to get published at least twice. Since 2011 I’ve had seven books published, which works out to … um … well, less than two books a year. (Now that I think about it, my 1989 resolution was to get better at math.)
It’s an easy goal in theory, because I’m already shopping three completed novels to agents and editors. With two more almost done, I could switch to independent publishing and get two out this year. The problem comes with finding time to write more books. By my count, if I don’t produce more manuscripts, I’ll run out in … um … a few years. So the next goal is the hard one: complete at least the first drafts of two more books by 2017. It’s a good thing I dedicated myself to writing full time. It’s a bad thing I still have my day job, which I work at night.
My next goal is to lose 35 pounds by spring. I’m not doing this for me: I’m doing this because my doctor told me to and, more importantly, my wife found out my doctor told me to. So this is a selfless act, something I’m doing for them. You fans, stop sending chocolate and chips to my home. Send them to my workplace, care of me. My day job workplace.
My final goal is to declutter my life, which translates to decluttering my house. Like many people who grew up poor, I can’t stand to throw anything away. “This broken 8-track player could be repaired! Suppose I lost my job, and this was my only way to listen to music?”
There’s a certain irony that many lower middle class people have more stuff than rich people do. When something breaks for a rich person, they throw it away; when something breaks for a less than rich person, they put it in the garage “just in case”. I do this despite the fact that I have absolutely no ability to ever repair anything.
Here’s another way to put it: If you keep something because you might need it someday, but when you finally do need it you have so much stuff you can’t find it—keeping it was pointless.
So my goals for 2016 amount to more writing and less of everything else. See? I boiled it down to one sentence, and left the resolutions to the United Nations. You might say I decluttered already.
December 31, 2015
Leaving 2015 With a Sniffle
Well, the head cold that spread into my sinuses claimed another victim: Emily got the cold even worse than I did, although if she follows my history it shouldn’t last terribly long (unless it spreads into her sinuses).
As for me, yesterday the doctor put two more shots of antibiotics into my derriere or, as Hawkeye Pierce put it, the back of my front. If you include my allergy shots, that means I’ve had six shots in three places in three days … or four places, if you count each cheek separately. The difference is, antibiotic shots feel for a while like being kicked by an angry mule—twice.
Still, sinus infections aren’t unheard of after this surgery, and the doc tells me my sore throat is actually good news, in a way—my sinus passages are already draining better than they used to. I’ve decided to think of this bout of ick not as how the New Year starts, but as a way of saying good riddance to the old year. Naturally, I’m not so dumb as to say 2016 can only be better.
On the brighter side, we’re getting really good at treating illnesses! You might want to NOT say anything to Emily that includes the words “brighter side”.
As for me, yesterday the doctor put two more shots of antibiotics into my derriere or, as Hawkeye Pierce put it, the back of my front. If you include my allergy shots, that means I’ve had six shots in three places in three days … or four places, if you count each cheek separately. The difference is, antibiotic shots feel for a while like being kicked by an angry mule—twice.
Still, sinus infections aren’t unheard of after this surgery, and the doc tells me my sore throat is actually good news, in a way—my sinus passages are already draining better than they used to. I’ve decided to think of this bout of ick not as how the New Year starts, but as a way of saying good riddance to the old year. Naturally, I’m not so dumb as to say 2016 can only be better.
On the brighter side, we’re getting really good at treating illnesses! You might want to NOT say anything to Emily that includes the words “brighter side”.
