Joshua Unruh's Blog, page 10

Pimpin’ Ain’t Easy…

If you'll jog over to the lovely Julie Lindsey's blog, Musings From The Slush Pile, you'll find a post about how readers don't always want to friend authors on GoodReads because they're afraid they're going to get spammed about buying/reading/reviewing books.

This is a pretty legitimate fear, honestly. I'm so afraid of being that guy, that I probably don't self-promote enough on Twitter and Facebook. Or GoodReads, for that matter, because I mainly prefer to use it as a reader with the added benefit of other readers being able to find me as an author easily should they like.

I'm friends with a lot of writers and authors (don't ask what my pedantic difference is) on Twitter and, I have to admit, I get really tired of seeing all the book ads. Even from, maybe especially from, the authors I like, whether I like them as authors, friends, or, better yet, both.

Honestly, I probably undersell myself a lot because I'm afraid of becoming that tweeter. I link blog posts, but usually only twice the day it comes out. Maybe twice one more day if I think it's really solid work. I always heavily link my books or stories when they come out, but only for a week or two at the max. I do the same, albeit probably closer to the one week than the fortnight, for friends' and co-workers' books and stories. But that's about it.

So the answer here is...I don't know. I know social media is huge for indie authors and publishers, of which I am both. I also know that if others have managed to annoy me with their spammy behavior, then I would annoy many, many others with similar behavior. I think more frequent reminders and talking about my works at the blog (which then gets tweeted and facebooked) is entirely appropriate. But that's usually more about works forthcoming than works available now.

I guess I'll continue to do what I am doing, which is err on the side of not endlessly promoting myself. I'd rather dazzle someone with my humor and wit via Twitter or Facebook rather than tell them the title of my book. That way, when I do periodically tweet and post about something I've written that I think is pretty great, they might be more likely to believe me.

There's a pretty robust conversation going on at Julie's blog, so comment there or here. Tell me what you guys think! Let your voices be heard!

PS: Julie will have a guest post here on Thursday, so if you like what you see at her own blog, there'll be more here for you in a couple days!

Pimpin' Ain't Easy…

If you'll jog over to the lovely Julie Lindsey's blog, Musings From The Slush Pile, you'll find a post about how readers don't always want to friend authors on GoodReads because they're afraid they're going to get spammed about buying/reading/reviewing books.

This is a pretty legitimate fear, honestly. I'm so afraid of being that guy, that I probably don't self-promote enough on Twitter and Facebook. Or GoodReads, for that matter, because I mainly prefer to use it as a reader with the added benefit of other readers being able to find me as an author easily should they like.

I'm friends with a lot of writers and authors (don't ask what my pedantic difference is) on Twitter and, I have to admit, I get really tired of seeing all the book ads. Even from, maybe especially from, the authors I like, whether I like them as authors, friends, or, better yet, both.

Honestly, I probably undersell myself a lot because I'm afraid of becoming that tweeter. I link blog posts, but usually only twice the day it comes out. Maybe twice one more day if I think it's really solid work. I always heavily link my books or stories when they come out, but only for a week or two at the max. I do the same, albeit probably closer to the one week than the fortnight, for friends' and co-workers' books and stories. But that's about it.

So the answer here is...I don't know. I know social media is huge for indie authors and publishers, of which I am both. I also know that if others have managed to annoy me with their spammy behavior, then I would annoy many, many others with similar behavior. I think more frequent reminders and talking about my works at the blog (which then gets tweeted and facebooked) is entirely appropriate. But that's usually more about works forthcoming than works available now.

I guess I'll continue to do what I am doing, which is err on the side of not endlessly promoting myself. I'd rather dazzle someone with my humor and wit via Twitter or Facebook rather than tell them the title of my book. That way, when I do periodically tweet and post about something I've written that I think is pretty great, they might be more likely to believe me.

There's a pretty robust conversation going on at Julie's blog, so comment there or here. Tell me what you guys think! Let your voices be heard!

PS: Julie will have a guest post here on Thursday, so if you like what you see at her own blog, there'll be more here for you in a couple days!

Vive la Différence: Science Fiction and Fantasy

Vive la Différence is a new feature of the blog (probably, note previous posts) where I take a couple things that have been (sometimes inexplicably) intertwined with one another and talk about what, to me, are the core differences between them.

Today's two sacred cows ready to be slaughtered, ground, and grilled are the venerable statesmen of nerdery...science fiction and fantasy.

Even undergradutes in Nerdery or Geekonomy are aware of Clarke's law that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. This more than anything save the overlap in fandoms explains why these two genres have been so closely linked. While the early days of "hard science fiction" tried (and typically succeeded) in grounding their worldbuilding in hard science facts, this eventually fell by the wayside for the most part.

Eventually you get into the areas of Space Opera, such as Flash Gordon, Buck Rogers, or the Star Wars franchise, that don't even try and hide the fact that they are essentially fantasy stories with the trappings of science fiction.

"But how does it work?" the fan says. "It's futuristic, advanced technology!" the author might reply, "so it just does." And, for the most part, this has been perfectly acceptable. Although, every now and then you'll find a series of sci fi novels that tries to pay more than the usual amount of lip service to science fact. The Honor Harrington series comes immediately to mind.

Nevertheless, there is still a moment where we, the reader or viewer, have to suspend our disbelief and just accept that the tech works because the fictional people have discovered some esoteric fact or formula that we have yet to stumble upon.

Which sounds dreadfully like magic if you think very hard about it. Is there a great distance between the scientific laboratory with its bubbling beakers and Jacob's Ladders and the alchemist's workspace with its bubbling beakers and stuffed alligators? Is there a great distance between the scientist's unintelligible scribblings on a blackboard and the draconian scratching of ancient glyphs on the diabolist's floor?

I have come to the conclusion that the main difference between science fiction and fantasy is one of attitude. Generally and broadly, in a science fiction story, when something inexplicable happens, there's someone there to insist that there is an explanation. In fantasy, at some level, it is entirely appropriate and accepted to shrug your shoulders and figure faeries did it.

This isn't to say that there aren't rules for magic. John Butcher's Dresden Files exemplify the marriage of vague science fact with eldritch fiction. The energy for spells has to come from somewhere, there are sympathetic energies, etc. But at the same time, there are beings ancient and terrible who are what they are because they are beings of magic and nobody is even considering subjecting them to the scientific method.

And this isn't a bad thing! The supernatural fills us with a cold, quiet dread that defies our modern understanding of the world. That's it's job.

The flipside of this, for me, is the JJ Abrams created television show Fringe. I realized that all the wild happenings that kick off each individual episode (including some Big Picture elements I won't discuss due to their spoileriness) could easily be described as spells, precognition, or simply magic. But every time Walter shows up on the scene, everybody turns to him and say, "Whaddya think, Walter?"

And even if Walter doesn't immediately know, his attitude is always that he can figure it out. "But I can't know for sure until I get back to my lab." He should just have a sign. Or I should have a drinking game. Or both.

Now, some wily magus in a fantasy story might act the same way. And there is certainly a point of suspension of disbelief for both types of story. But the attitude is certainly more at home in one type of story than the other.

As a writer, this was a big discovery for me. Did I want to dwell on the details of the weird happenings? Did I want them to be explainable? Did I want my intrepid heroes to stare into the eye of the unknown and overcome their fear to deal with it? Or did I want them to hitch up their lab coats and insist it make an accounting of itself?

Thinking about the tone and feel of the story I'm planning helped me decide if it would work better as sci fi, fantasy, or some mash up. But if it is a mash up, I still know which style I wanted to emphasize. I mean, in a 50-50 situation, everybody still angles for the hyphen, right?

So vive la différence, science fiction and fantasy! We love you for different reasons, but we may not love you deeply until we know those reasons!

The Reluctant Super Non-Hero

I've asked my friend, editor, and fellow Consortium Books author Jessie Sanders to visit and talk about her debut novel, Into the Flames. Several characters in the book, including our very reluctant hero, Rahab, have abilities that could be described as superpowers. This is obviously a subject that eats up an amazing amount of my waking hours. But Jessie brings a different perspective to the subject, one that denies capes, tights, and would-be worldbeaters but would nevertheless, I think, be at home in a low-key take on the X-Men or Runaways. Here's what she has to say.

Superheroes. Everybody loves 'em. Everybody wishes they could be one.

Or do they?

My first novel, Into the Flames, explores the character of the reluctant hero, the absent hero, the herodesperately trying to not be a hero. It's about a girl who happens to have superpowers and wishes with everything in her being that she was just plain normal.

Rahab Carmichael spends the majority of Into the Flames avoiding conflict. She doesn't want anyone to notice her, especially not the school bully, John Madison. When John teases her new friends, she's ashamed that she doesn't have the gumption to stand up to him. But how can she? She was teased relentlessly for being different at her old school, and she's not ready to revisit that experience.

Rather than stepping up and saving the day, Rahab's primary goal is fitting in. I think that's something all teenagers can identify with. We don't have to have superpowers to feel like we're all alone and misunderstood.

I created the world of Grover Cleveland Academy with the idea that my stories would be character-driven and just happen to include powers. I'm not saying that the use of powers should come out of left field and be unrelated to the story. But I was so tired of books where the author was too busy shoving their magic system down the readers' throats to actually tell the story. Instead I wanted to focus on subjects we come in contact with every day.  Something like an introvert starting at a new school.

Rahab Carmichael may have superpowers, but she by no means wants to be a superhero. She ran away from her old school to get a fresh start on life. She chose Grover Cleveland because it was a place that wouldn't allow her to use her powers.

But it seems as though no matter where Rahab goes, a destiny is waiting for her. What if these powers were given to her for a reason? What if they are the only way she can save her friends? We'd all like to think that we have a purpose in life. That we're meant to be part of something greater.

I think each of us has a purpose in life. We're each different, and our differences, though sometimes alienating, are what we can use to bring something new and better to the world around us. That's something I'd like my audience to come away with after they've read Into the Flames. I don't really think that there are kids out there with superpowers, but then, my goal is to mimic life, not reality.

Super Pooper (A Mostly True Story)

"DAD! Where's my Green Lantern mask?"

I sighed. "I don't know, I think you had it in my bedroom this morning. Did you look there?"

The noise of running feet echoed down hallways. Then silence.

"Did you find it?" I yelled from the kitchen.

"Yeah! Where's my Green Lantern ring?"

"I don't know, but if I were a betting man, I'd guess about three inches from where you found the mask."

A brief pause.

"Well?" I asked.

"Not this one, Daddy, the one that lights up."

"Check the bucket of superhero stuff."

There were more running feet, then rummaging noises.

"I got it!"

Another pause.

"Daddy, can I wear a Spider-Man shirt today?"

"Yep, I already laid it out for you on your bed."

"With Spidey undies?"

"If you want them, go ahead and get them out of your drawer."

More running feet and then a ridiculous amount of time passes along with the usual grunting and whispering that comes from my son getting dressed.

"DAD!"

"What NOW?"

"Where are my books about Thor, Captain America, and the Justice League?!?"

"Are you kidding me? Where did you last have them?"

"By my bookshelf!"

"Did you even look by your bookshelf?"

"No!"

Silence.

"Well, go look there." I bellow.

Remember, probably twenty minutes had passed and I had yet to actually see my son. This conversation had gone on entirely at the top of our lungs from different ends of the house. Finally, he appeared in the kitchen wearing his Spidey undies and t-shirt, a Green Lantern mask, a light up Green Lantern ring, and carrying three small books all with colorful superheros emblazoned across the covers.

"Daddy, look at me!"

"You look great, kid. What did you need all that stuff for, anyway?"

"I've gotta go poop!"

He raced away to the bathroom. A few minutes later, when I checked, he sat on the toilet, Spidey shirt hiked up, Spidey undies around his dangling ankles, wide eyes reading a Thor book through his Green Lantern mask, and a ring on his finger flashing intermittently with verdant light. I could only stare for a moment before he looked up.

"What?"

"You're just amazing to me, that's all."

He grinned widely. "Amazing like Spider-Man?"

"Yep." I turned to go, shaking my head. "You just call me when you're done if you need some help."

"Okay daddy!"

I Have No Idea What The Hell I’m Doing (An Ode To Myself)

I'm a husband who supports his wife's general badassery. That's why I thought her playing roller derby was an awesome idea even though it was going to mean a LOT of practice. Then she cemented her badassery in an unexpected way...by breaking her arm at practice. It's made her very popular. Apparently, in derby, making your bones is breaking your bones.

I'm a parent of a son and a foster parent of another. I can't talk a lot about the latter, but that's why sometimes I sound like I only have one kid and other times I sound like I have more. First one then the other got sick and leaked from both ends. This happened not long after the Senior Partner broke her arm. She wasn't really able to help with them. I swam in the effluvia of others and barely left the house for fifteen days.

I'm a massively extroverted person who didn't leave his house much or get to talk to very many people that were over the age of four for nearly fifteen days. This was depressing enough that it made me not want to talk to people or get out of the house. Yes, I see the irony just fine, thank you.

I'm a huge superhero comic book fan but I'm pretty sure the Big Two publishers don't really want me as a customer anymore. This means I can either get curmudgeonly about it or just divest myself of 99% of the enterprise. I'm still riding that ragged edge.

I'm a writer who hasn't really written much of anything in the last month or so. Initially this was to recharge the creative batteries, but somewhere along the line it became about taking care of sick kids and playing Skyrim.

I don't really enjoy most video games but I am hours and hours into Skyrim and plan to play it again when I'm done, only then as as a very self-interested, possibly evil magus.

I'm a published author, but I decided at almost the last minute that a not-quite finished NaNoWriMo novel should be the one I published two months later. What's more, I sorta want to play in another sandbox, but the sequel comes out in July. Man, I should probably start working on that thing...

This is the 100th post on a blog that keeps getting repeatedly neglected because I'm not entirely sure what to do with it. Scholarly comic book nerdery? Daddy blogging? Excerpts from things I'm working on? Comedy? Rap lyrics (my own or others)? General musings?

So apparently I have no idea what I'm doing in any part of my life. At least I'm consistent.

I Have No Idea What The Hell I'm Doing (An Ode To Myself)

I'm a husband who supports his wife's general badassery. That's why I thought her playing roller derby was an awesome idea even though it was going to mean a LOT of practice. Then she cemented her badassery in an unexpected way...by breaking her arm at practice. It's made her very popular. Apparently, in derby, making your bones is breaking your bones.

I'm a parent of a son and a foster parent of another. I can't talk a lot about the latter, but that's why sometimes I sound like I only have one kid and other times I sound like I have more. First one then the other got sick and leaked from both ends. This happened not long after the Senior Partner broke her arm. She wasn't really able to help with them. I swam in the effluvia of others and barely left the house for fifteen days.

I'm a massively extroverted person who didn't leave his house much or get to talk to very many people that were over the age of four for nearly fifteen days. This was depressing enough that it made me not want to talk to people or get out of the house. Yes, I see the irony just fine, thank you.

I'm a huge superhero comic book fan but I'm pretty sure the Big Two publishers don't really want me as a customer anymore. This means I can either get curmudgeonly about it or just divest myself of 99% of the enterprise. I'm still riding that ragged edge.

I'm a writer who hasn't really written much of anything in the last month or so. Initially this was to recharge the creative batteries, but somewhere along the line it became about taking care of sick kids and playing Skyrim.

I don't really enjoy most video games but I am hours and hours into Skyrim and plan to play it again when I'm done, only then as as a very self-interested, possibly evil magus.

I'm a published author, but I decided at almost the last minute that a not-quite finished NaNoWriMo novel should be the one I published two months later. What's more, I sorta want to play in another sandbox, but the sequel comes out in July. Man, I should probably start working on that thing...

This is the 100th post on a blog that keeps getting repeatedly neglected because I'm not entirely sure what to do with it. Scholarly comic book nerdery? Daddy blogging? Excerpts from things I'm working on? Comedy? Rap lyrics (my own or others)? General musings?

So apparently I have no idea what I'm doing in any part of my life. At least I'm consistent.

Vomitorium

So my son was sick earlier this week. Throwing up, low grade fever, the whole deal. The last time he had a tummy bug was so long ago that he doesn't remember it at all. Cut him some slack, he's four, not tons of life experience to draw from. But because of this memory issue, throwing up was basically the single most traumatic thing that could have happened to him.

Think about it. You put food in their all the time. Food and juice and candy and all kinds of  great stuff. It works it's way out the other end, sure, but it never, ever, EVER comes back out. That would just be...unnatural. If you try and imagine it from his POV, that's pretty scary stuff.

Anyway, the toughest part for me to watch was when he felt better the next day. He was so thirsty and a little hungry that the crackers and strawberry Pedia-Lite I gave him was like manna from heaven. They were simple and good, he wanted them, and they made him feel better.

For a couple hours.

Then it all came right back out.

And he completely didn't understand it. "But the Pedia-Lite made me feel better, daddy," he whimpered. "It was good, I liked it."

Again, you can see why he'd be confused. I gave him those things because they were good for him, I assured him they were good for him. But still, his body rejected them. And so fast that the recycled Pedia-Lite still smelled of strawberry. It was so good for him that it still smelled sorta okay even after it came back out. But now it was tainted no matter how good it smelled. It was good mixed with bad.

Slowly but surely, we experimented. Eventually, good things went in and stayed good on the inside. A week later, you'd never know his entire digestive system had been in rebellion.

Meanwhile...

So a few weeks ago, I started this short story. I was really excited to write it. It was using a character I'd had living in my head for years. And it was going to introduce an all new character that was an idea I should have had years ago. It was going to be Young Adult, like TEEN Agents, but more boy-focused. Necromancers, monsters, blowing stuff up, jet packs, the works.

But I think I jumped into it too fast after TEEN Agents. I mean, that thing went from not existing on November 1 to a polished piece of published work I couldn't be prouder of. But that kind of creative grindstone will wear down any nose. The nub I had left on my face didn't seem up to  the challenge of the short story.

Thing is, I almost never have trouble with word count. I have an idea, a plot and characters, then it's just  a matter of time before I get it on paper. It isn't all gold on that first draft, but the first draft gets done and relatively quickly. I had good things inside my head, it should've all worked out.

I started the damn thing five times. The first four were deleted whole cloth. Nothing from any of them made it into the opener I wound up using. The rest of it was  like  pulling teeth as well. Normally I look forward to my action scenes. After years and years of comics, I can see them in my head as they go. I almost never have to plan them, they happen organically as I go. But this whole thing just drug end to end. It  was lethargic locution.

I wasn't ready to let it go. I kept putting good things down on the paper slowly but surely even though they were tainted with a lot of bad. I sure as hell couldn't put the mess back in and expect it to come out better. It was a hot mess, but it was eventually out of me.

I sent Ajax Stewart in Werewolves of Mass Destruction to a friend and she LOVED IT. She helped me polish it and it was submitted to a Kindle All-Stars anthology (a YA reader for worldreader.org; that's a damn good cause).  La Consigliera of the KAS loves it so much she wants to make it the cornerstone of the anthology.

A week later, you wouldn't be able to tell my entire creative system had been in total rebellion.

I swear I had a point to these two stories. Ah well, I'm sure it'll come back to me.

Sometimes It's Your Job To Be The Bad Example

Lately I have found myself reading things that I do not enjoy.

I'm not a masochist, I didn't buy/borrow/check out the book because I expected to hate it. I might have heard good things. Or I might have been doing research. Or it might have simply struck my fancy. But then I start reading it and it's terrible. Or at least does things terribly.

This is when normal humans would stop reading. But I can't. I can't because I'm a writer.

Netflix Set Me Free

This finishing things that I'm not enjoying is a really foreign concept to me these days. Once upon a time, it was typical. Take movies. I had to drive somewhere to spend six bucks on a movie. I don't care if it's the worst thing I've ever seen, I am finishing that sucka.

Then Netflix came along. They were going to send movies to my mailbox,man! If I watched enough movies, then they basically cost me pennies apiece! If watched something that was crap, I stopped it, boxed it up, and mailed it back hoping to get lucky on the next pull of the movie lottery I made for myself.

Then streaming happened. Holy cats, I did't even have to wait on the US Postal Service.

I'd always been a bit like this with books, anyway. But Netflix reprogrammed my brain to consider my entertainment time to be a premium. Add kids to the mix, and entertainment time actually does become a premium.

But now I finish the books that I don't like. They just take me twice as long.

Being A Writer Is Like Giving Yourself Homework Every Night for the Rest of Your Life

I've seen the above quote often, and it's really true. I expect this to be true to some extent even after I'm being paid to write for eight hours a day. After all, I can't stop thinking, now can I?

But this thing with reading books you aren't enjoying is even worse.

I mean, look, if the book is just terrible then I can stop reading it. If it's amateur mistakes I don't make anymore, then I don't need to be reminded of them like this. But lately it seems like I'm finding things that would be good if only they'd stop doing this one stupid thing or get to the damn point faster. Or they're doing something similar to my own idea but in such a way that it ruins the idea (at least in my estimation) and I want to make sure I don't blunder into those mistakes.

My One Ray of Hope

I guess as I get continually better as a writer then more and more of those mistakes will be obvious to me. Which means if the book sucks in those particular ways then I can stop reading it.

I think I may have traded homework I really hate for homework that I enjoy doing...more or less. This might inspire me to write more words than anything else ever.

TEEN Agents Review and CONTEST!

My good friend and fellow Kindle All-Star Laurie Laliberte offered to do three amazing things for me. First, she would read TEEN Agents despite not meeting the demographic on most levels. Second, she would review the book on Amazon and Good Reads. Last, she would give many more eyes to a paperback giveaway than I could with a blog team-up!

Here's the review and later there will be rules. Check 'em out!

I'm always 100 per cent honest when I write a review. It's my nature. So, in the interest of full disclosure, I should tell you right now that Joshua Unruh is a friend of mine and that I'm already a fan of his work. Oh yeah, and I've been looking forward to the release of this first installment in the TEEN Agents series ever since Josh began writing it.

As a fan of mystery/suspense/espionage, I knew I'd enjoy The Plundered Parent Protocol, but I really didn't expect the almost comic book, just a bit over the top, downright fun adventure it would be.

Josh has taken a little bit of James Bond-type espionage, dropped it in a pot with all three of Charlie's Angels, and stirred it counter-clockwise to de-age it. The end result is something wonderful that teen and tween girls will love. And, if you're a parent who tends to read what your kids are reading so you know it's not "too much," you'll enjoy it too.

This book is refreshing, innocent, clean, fun. . .and I thought it was cramazing.

I'll let Josh tell you how you can win a signed paperback copy:

Agents, here are your rules of engagement. You'll have up to six opportunities to fulfill your mission. For each of the following, you will receive one entry:

1.  Stop by Josh's blog, follow it, and leave a comment on any post except the one that describes this contest. If you're already a follower, just leave your comment.

and/or

2.  Stop by Laurie's blog, Big Girl Blog, follow it, and leave a comment on any post except the one that describes this contest. If you're already a follower, just leave your comment.

and/or

3.  Tweet the link to the contest with a cc to Josh @JoshuaUnruh or Laurie @LaliberteLaurie. It doesn't matter which blog you link to in your tweet. If you're not on twitter, then post on facebook or Google+.

AFTER ACTION REPORT:  After you've done one or more of the above, return here and leave one comment telling us what you did. At the end of the contest, each of us will pull one name.

BONUS OBJECTIVE:  If you tell both of us what you did, you double your chances of winning.

Don't forget we'll need your email so we can notify you that you've won and deliver your prize. Each of the two winners will receive an email from kindleallstars[at]gmail[dot]com explaining how to claim their prize.

The contest begins at 8:00 a.m. GMT on Sunday, February 26, 2012. (That's 3:00 a.m. on the east coast and midnight on the west coast.) It ends at 8:00 a.m. GMT on Sunday, March 4. (Again, that's 3:00 a.m. on the east coast and midnight on the west coast.