Stuart G. Yates's Blog, page 3

Adventures in Writing … a look at how agents reject and why

It’s hard writing sometimes.

I don’t mean the process. I write virtually all the time. I have lots of ideas, and I’ve written over 36 full novels in my time and have two – possibly three – ear-marked for publication this coming year (2014). I have only just submitted a dystopian fantasy of 106,000 words, together with a contemporary thriller. So, I’m not giving up. No, it’s the knocks, the negative comments and the endless waiting which get me down.

I understand why so many struggling authors turn to self-publishing. I recently watched a series of short videos on YouTube by the agent Piers Blofeld. Take a look yourself and you’ll see, if you didn’t already know the reasons, why so many go down the do-it-yourself route. The process of rejection is ruthless.

You have to grab the agent’s attention from the very first word or sentence. This is what is known as ‘the pitch’, and it is fraught with dangers. Please, watch the videos. You’ll see.

And it is demoralising, there is no getting away from that. Mr Blofeld is not a nasty individual, nor is he arrogant; in fact, he comes across as quite amusing and likeable, but the way he goes through his ‘slush-pile’ is breath taking. His reasons for rejecting a range of manuscripts are at once illuminating and terrifying.

So. Rather than rushing off to ‘Bookbaby’ or Kindle, my decision is to look long and hard at my query letter. I have to hook any prospective publisher or agent, sell them my proposal, get them to read those first three chapters. That first hurdle, the query letter, has to be the best I can do.

I’m not giving up. I’m a writer, and I’m published, but I want to break through into the mainstream. Amazon are introducing a new service, but I’m very wary of it. As far as I can see, it’s another cynical way of making more money for them. No wonder the French, the great champions of bookshops and traditional publishing, is putting limits on what Amazon can do in their country. And with all the machinery grinding away around Kindle, the get-rich-quick brigade selling the idea anyone can be a success, I’m also distancing myself more and more from it.

‘Varangian’, my most successful book to date, has received glowing reviews. I am so humbled by them. But, I also receive personal criticism, insults, dismissive remarks about what I try to do. Sometimes those remarks hurt, of course they do, but, do you know what, in the end they empower me to continue doing the best I can. To read more, to learn from those writers who have made it. Authors like John Harvey, Michael Jecks and Henning Mankell.  They, for me, teach so much more than any ‘How to Write a Best Seller’ book, available on Kindle for only 99 cents, ever can.  

I’m here for the long haul, despite the setbacks, and I’ll keep submitting to traditional publishers for as long as I’m able to and hope for the publishing deal I dream about. Until that day dawns, I’ll go with the Indies, the great champions of all of us who struggle to put our words out into the world. But, like I say, it’s hard, often lonely, and sometimes disappointing, but I wouldn’t want to do anything else.

You can learn a little more about what I do by visiting my website where you will find links to my books :  www.stuartgyates.com.

Thanks for dropping by, and keep reading. You know it makes sense!

 

 

 

Adventures in Writing – two thoughts

Two items this month, which I hope interest you.

A few days ago, I received the final edits from my publisher of my latest novel ‘Whipped Up’ (the second in the Paul Chaise series, which began with ‘Burnt Offerings’) and it started me thinking about the whole editor/author partnership and how vital it is.

Nowadays, with the explosion of self-published books, an entire industry has surfaced, one which I assume has always been there, lurking in the deep shadows, but which now is everywhere to see. I am bombarded by emails, as well as adverts on Facebook, for book-publishing services, editors, gurus, marketing advice, videos and blogs telling me how wonderful it is to be self-published. I’m not going to get into all the pros and cons of that, I’ve said it all before, but what struck me are some very simple facts.

For a book to be even moderately successful, it not only has to have at its core a good story, it has to readable. This means fundamental aspects of grammar, syntax, spelling. No matter how good we might think we are, a second, or indeed third eye looking through our work, is essential. But nothing beats a good editor. Someone who has the knack to notice what you never did, even after the fourth draft. Stupid things like ‘an’ when it should have been ‘and’, or, what I am particularly guilty of, mixing up people’s names. My editor has such an eye; she asks such incisive questions, forcing me to think deep about my reasons for writing a particular line, or even using a particular word. Whatever your level, you need and editor, and a damned good one at that.

So, how do you find one? I have no idea. This is one of the many reasons why I steer clear of self-publishing. It’s a minefield. Do you put in a search, look out for recommendations, what? I read somewhere there are now almost as many writers as there are readers. You only have to go on Amazon to see the numbers. It’s mind-blowing, all the wannabees out there. And they’ll all be using these ‘services’, so the opportunity to make lots of money is so easy. The vast majority of self-pubbed writers will never write a second book, some will write more and they will be as dreadful as the first, and a tiny few will work hard, improve their craft, and make a modicum of success. This demands hard work, determination and, most fundamental of all, a love of writing. It’s not something you can be taught to do, not matter what the hype or the power-salespeople tell you. Read good fiction, not ‘How to be a Writer’. Be consumed with the desire, work at it, treat it as a job, and always carry a notebook. Write, write, and write some more. But please, don’t pay attention to the so-called experts. Ever wondered why they’re not writing fiction? How many great authors have written how-to books? I mean books, not articles. Stephen King, Elmore Leonard, a few others. But not many. Best thing, write your book as if your life depends on it and get yourself a publisher and with it, a good editor. It’s all free and that, in this mad, mad world in which we live, has got to be a good thing!

I’ve been writing a novel recently, one which explores the fascinating world of reincarnation, parallel universes and how our present is shaped by the past. I included some scenes from the reign of Richard II of England, the king who, at the tender age of fourteen, stood up to Wat Tyler during the Peasants’’ Revolt, lied and succeeded in maintaining his power. Well, he was much more than that. It appears he was easily led, may have been in lust with one of his favourites (how many times does that happen in history! My God, what a list it is, of kings having it away with their bosom pals!) and struggled ceaselessly with the nobility. He fell out famously with one Henry Bolingbroke and that, ultimately, was his undoing. When Bolingbroke invaded England to claim the throne from the deeply unpopular Richard, he had the former-king incarcerated in Pontefract Castle in Yorkshire. He was never seen again.

Shakespeare, in his play, had Richard murdered whilst imprisoned. Historians have cast some doubt on this, but the truth is nobody actually knows. In my book, I played around with this idea and came up with one of my own. And as I wrote, I gained quite an affection for Richard. A tragic figure who simply faded away. I teach history, and his story is never touched upon in school, but I see him just as worthy of investigation as William II’s death, or the mystery of the Princes in the Tower. One of the joys of writing historical fiction is we can play around with the facts. We don’t know everything and never will. It’s too long ago. And there lies the opportunity for our imagination to be let free! I love writing historical fiction and can’t wait to get my teeth into the third volume of my Hardrada series. My first volume is doing quite well, so why not check it out for yourselves over on Amazon. ‘Varangian’ is a fast-moving tale of double-crossing royals and generals, of fighting men and servant girls, all set in the magnificent city of Constantinople. The second volume, ‘To be King of the Norse’ is now with the publisher and should be out in the autumn. After that, I think I might just delve ever more deeply into the tragic world of Richard II. Sounds like a plan!

Thanks for stopping by and please, if you get the chance, take a look at my website for more information about my work. http://www.stuartgyates.com.

Keep reading everyone!

 

Adventures in Writing… a slight deviation from the usual

Hi, I thought this month I’d do something a little different.

You may have followed my tale, of not so many months ago, of the problems I was experiencing with a publisher. The sequel to Burnt Offerings was written, but the publisher decided British writers were not selling in the USA, so ‘goodbye’. Not sure if he’d ever heard of J.K.Rowling, but never mind. Well, to cut a long story short, my other publisher, Rebel-E, who have published my most successful book to date, ‘VARANGIAN’, offered to send it out into the world. ‘Whipped Up’, a contemporary thriller featuring Paul Chaise, who first appeared in Burnt Offerings, will appear sometime this summer/autumn, which is wonderful news for me as I think it’s a good story.

Well, to help you all decide, here is an exceprt. Chapter One. The opening you can read at the end of Burnt Offerings, so here’s what happens next …

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CHAPTER ONE

He stood at the top of the aircraft steps and took a moment to look around. The grey sky matched his mood, and the fine drizzle didn’t help either. Not for the first time he wondered about the rightness of his actions. Coming back home. There was Linny, of course. She figured large in the decision. Even more so than the coercion perhaps. Being told what to do was not something that came easily to Paul Chaise.

The air stewardess touched his arm and smiled. She beckoned him to continue; some disgruntled passengers wanted to disembark as quickly as possible. Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed. He gave a nod of apology and descended. Overhead a plane soared into the sky, all around the noise of jet engines and the smell of kerosene invaded his senses. The steel steps clanged under his shoes, each one sounding like a death knell. Back home. Blighty. He sucked in a breath, hating it as much now as he ever did.

He’d been in the Costa del Sol for a long time, building up a comfortable little niche for himself selling real estate to the ex-pats. He’d done well, managed to earn enough to buy a lovely villa, which Linny loved. Life was good, at first. Everything came tumbling down when he became involved with gangsters and drugs. None of it of his own making, but that didn’t prevent Linny from leaving him.

She was sick of the lies, she’d told him. Sick of the way he kept his past so secret. She’d never understood, how could she? He’d created a protective layer of deceit, and for a few years it had remained intact, with no hint of who he really was.

Nothing about his life as a covert killer in Iraq, the follow-up operations in Bahrain, Kosovo, Pakistan. He couldn’t reveal anything. He’d signed the papers, and the men in grey suits had him under their thumbs.

The shit hit the fan in Spain, when he’d killed one of their own. Since then he had become an undesirable, a threat. They’d recalled him, leaving few options other than to acquiesce. The alternative meant death – his own.

He went through the various exits and down an endless stream of corridors. When he finally arrived at the check-in – or should that be check-out, he wondered – he felt tired and hot. Some idiot had put the heating on.

A smiling security guard in navy blue uniform guided him towards one of the queues. Hundreds of people milled about. Britain, gripped with paranoia over terrorist activity, had up-graded its passport controls. Chaise couldn’t work out whether it had more to do with illegal immigrants rather than bomb threats.

The politicians vied to hit the right nerves; preventing anyone not ‘British’ from trying to enter the country was always worth a few votes. Eastern Europeans in particular blamed for the nation’s ills. Strange how all the hotheads kept quiet when a ‘white Anglo-Saxon’ committed an outrage. None of them grasped the simple truth that good and bad resided in everyone, regardless of colour or creed.

He took a breath, sick to the back teeth of such thoughts. He’d never been able to get inside the heads of racists, nor did he wish to. His own troubles monopolised his time now, chief amongst them being how to get in touch with Linny.

Finally, his turn arrived and he stepped up to the little cubicle. Chaise presented his passport and the customs officer scanned it. She stopped, pulled a face and studied her monitor. He knew what was coming next. He watched her turn to a colleague standing with arms folded some way behind her. She motioned him to approach. An exchange of whispered comments, followed by a quick glance towards Chaise. The colleague stepped away and pulled out his mobile.

Chaise stood and waited, his breathing shallow and controlled. This was what he’d expected, but it irked him nevertheless.

After a short while, two more uniformed men arrived. These were a different species. They were big, serious looking, with automatic rifles strapped across their chests. Another brief exchange and they came up to him, one on either side. “Can you come with us, sir?”

Stupid question. Chaise shrugged, accepting there was little gain in taking the men apart. He nodded to the customs clerk, and went wherever the men with guns wanted to take him.

He didn’t know how long he sat in the tiny, clinically-clean room in which they’d deposited him. Before leaving, they’d taken his watch, trouser belt, wallet and passport. He wore slip-on shoes, otherwise he felt sure they would have taken the laces from them as well. Now, alone, he sat and waited. There was no window, the room claustrophobic, with nothing but a small table and the strip light for company. In the corner, high up, a security camera. A little green light blinked underneath the lens. Did that mean it was operating, or not? Chaise didn’t really care. He closed his eyes and slept.

When the door flew open, he woke with a start, turned around. Two men came in, one of them moving behind the opposite side of the desk. He sat down, dropped a manila file on the top and leaned forward on his knuckles. He didn’t look happy. “My name is Commander Mellor,” he said.

If this revelation was meant to impress Chaise, it failed. He merely gave Mellor a blank stare.

The Commander scowled, somewhat put-out by Chaise’s lack of reaction. “I have a message,” he said. “From London.”

“Where are my things?”

Mellor blinked. “What?”

“My things. My passport, my watch. Why did you take my watch?”

Mellor shook his head. “Didn’t you hear what I said? I have a message for you, from Control.”

A heavy silence descended. Chaise looked from Mellor to the other man and back again. “And?”

“You’re a surly sod,” said the man positioned against the wall. Chaise gauged the distance and knew he could be at his throat before anyone could react fast enough to stop him. He noticed the man had a gun in a hip holster, and he filed it for later. It might be needed.

“Don’t waste your breath, Simms,” said Mellor, his eyes narrow. “Our Mr Chaise doesn’t like authority, do you Mr Chaise?”

“Why don’t you just tell me what the message is, then give me back my things.”

“We keep the passport.”

“Like fuck you do.”

“Listen, Chaise, you’re here on the behest of Her Majesty’s Government. You don’t make the rules, Chaise – we do.”

“So tell me what the rules are.”

“We have a flat for you. Simms here will take you, help you settle in. Someone will be in touch. Until such time, you stay quiet, keep your nose clean. You crossed the line over in sunny Spain, now it’s time for you to toe it.”

“Jesus, where the hell did they find you?”

“I told you, Chaise. I’m a Commander in the Royal Navy. You’d do best to remember that.”

“And you’d do best to remember that I am also a commander … at least I was, last time I checked.”

“London wants you to stay at your flat, keep low. They will want to talk to you about a few things. In particular, why you killed Embleton.”

“He was about to rape my girlfriend.”

“Well, that’s as maybe, but London will need to get it all straight, with no misunderstandings on either side. Until then you do as you’re told.”

“I need to find her. Linny. My girlfriend. She left. That’s the only reason I’m here, not to answer questions or kiss the arse of anyone from Control.” He stood up. “Now, if you’ll give me my passport, I’ll be on my way.”

“Sit down, Chaise,” said Simms, sounding bored. “You heard what the Commander said; you’re coming with me to your new flat.”

“No,” said Chaise and looked deep into Mellor’s eyes. “Tell London that I’ll be in touch, when I’m ready, not before.”

Mellor straightened and tapped his finger on the cover of the manila file. “It says in here you can be difficult.”

“Did it really. Where’s my passport?”

Mellor reached inside his jacket. Chaise spotted the gun.

The passport fell to the desktop. “I’ll do a deal,” said Mellor. “You can keep the passport, if you go to the flat.”

“I’m going up to Liverpool,” Paul said quietly. “Find Linny.”

“London won’t allow that.”

“London can kiss my arse.”

Simms moved, reached for the gun at his hip. He probably thought it would intimidate Chaise, cause him to rethink his approach, but he thought wrong.

The elbow hit Simms under the chin, snapping his head back, stunning him. In one easy movement, Chaise twisted behind him, locking Simms’ arm, wrenched the gun free, and pointed it directly at Mellor, who sat and gaped, everything happening too fast for him to react.

“Now,” said Chaise, applying more pressure on Simms’ wrist. The man squealed, Mellor closed his eyes and sighed. “I want you to put all my things on the table, then take off your trousers and shoes, whilst Mr Simms and I go for a little drive.”

“You’re being bloody stupid, Chaise.”

“It’s in my nature. So is killing people who don’t do what I ask.”

It only took a few moments for Mellor to comply. With his few belongings secured, Chaise left the airport with Simms. In one hand he held his suitcase and Mellor’s bundled up clothes, in the other the trim Walther automatic relieved from Simms. Simms himself didn’t appear too happy and spent most of the stroll across the car park rubbing his swollen looking wrist.

When they reached the car, Simms handed over the keys and Chaise hit him very hard in the solar plexus. The man folded and fell to his knees, groaning loudly. Chaise pushed him aside, opened the car door, threw his bag in the rear seat and slid in behind the wheel.

On the way out, he saw Simms in the rear-view mirror, still down on his knees, taking time to recover. For a moment, Chaise thought that perhaps he should have killed him. The man would almost certainly come looking for him. But it had been a bad start to the day. Chaise didn’t really want it to become so much worse.

Unfortunately, as Mellor later discovered when he phoned in to Control to tell them what had happened, it already had.

Well, I hope you enjoyed this opening chapter. Keep an eye out for when the book is released, which shouldn’t be too long I hope. But the publishing world is slow, slow, slow, so we all have to be patient. Keep visiting my webpage, http://www.stuartgyates.com where I shall post more information.

Thanks for dropping by and…keep reading!

Adventures in Writing … praising, and agreeing with Michael

I was listening to the wonderful Michael Jecks the other day. His series of videos on being a writer are a needs must for anyone out there contemplating putting pen to paper – or fingers to keyboard. He is such a nice guy, very down to earth, with no ‘side’ to him at all. Not only that, but his books are pretty darn good too! But the reason I’m writing is not simply to praise Michael, but to think about some of his comments and try to add my own thoughts to the mix.

More than anything, Michael is a writer. He often talks about the work ethic, that aspect of being disciplined. He writes for about ten hours every day, with a break in between, as he sees this as his job. I absolutely echo this. To be a writer, you have to treat it as a job. It is not a hobby or a pastime. You must, if you want to achieve anything in this business, be prepared to make sacrifices. And, above all else, if you have a family, they have to understand this is just like going out every morning to the office. It’s work. End of. So treat it as such. Be disciplined. Make your timetable – especially if, like me, you have another job – in order to manage your time. Often I come home totally drained of energy and the last thing I want to do is write. Usually, especially in the late summer, I have masses of reports to write. Being a teacher everything accelerates as the end of term draws nearer. There is no getting away from it, but if you do not time-manage, your writing will suffer. And that, for me, is a total no-no.

So, get yourself sorted.

I write best at the weekend. I get up early, have some breakfast, then write. I have a break at around 11 for a coffee, then it is back to writing until around 2pm. Time for lunch, but I have what is termed a ‘working lunch’, as I’m going over what I’ve previously written, adding, editing, all the usual stuff. The afternoon is not so manic for me, but come the mid-part of the evening, I’m at it again. I edit each chapter as I finish it, looking for repeated words and phrases mainly, over-used and filler words. I do the best I can and, when I’m satisfied, I put it away until tomorrow. I never used to do this. I followed the Elmore Leonard approach of simply writing. But I then found going over an 80,000 word manuscript so incredibly time consuming and, I have to admit, boring, I have abandoned this approach for the one just described. And, you know what, it works. I can finish my novels so much more quickly now. I have written two full-blown novels in 4 months. That’s pretty good going I feel. From now on, this will be the approach I use.

Michael was also asked the inevitable ‘do you suffer from writer’s block?’ And his answer, thank fully, was the same as mine. No. Neither of us know what this is. We write. There is no secret, we have an idea and we develop it. Michael’s research and knowledge of the medieval period is exceptional. Me, I’m just a dabbler, but I do love researching. For my Viking novel ‘Varangian’ (and the second in the series, ‘To be King of the Norse’, to be published later this year by Rebel-E) I devoted a great deal of time and effort in researching, but I loved every minute.

Varangian (Byzantine Histories)

Adventures in Writing … the month so far!

An exciting time for me so far this month, and we’re not even half-way through!

It began with the tussle I had with one of my publishers over the publication of ‘Whipped Up’, the second of my Paul Chaise thrillers. They said they were reluctant to accept anymore work from European writers, which I found bizarre to say the least, but my other publisher thought differently and they accepted it. Whipped Up will be published sometime soon. Here’s some background to the story:

‘Paul Chaise is a former operative in the SBS – the Special Boat Service – but has been ‘retired’ for over ten years, living a quiet life in Spain, following a career as an estate agent, selling villas to the ex-pats seeking a new life in a new country. Everything is going very well until he inadvertently gives a hitchhiker a ride and his life begins to spiral out of control. This is the premise for the first book ‘Burnt Offerings’. At the end of the book, with his girlfriend fleeing to the UK, and his former employers incensed that he has emerged from his ‘cover’, he too is summoned to return.

‘Whipped Up’ sees Chaise trying his level best to make something of a life in the UK, taking up employment in an East Anglian estate agents. His old ‘employers’ are not convinced and they have him followed. He becomes embroiled with the problems of a customer who is being harassed by some particularly nasty Eastern European types who want to take over the running of this man’s houses. It all spirals out of control when this man is murdered and his wife tortured, her mutilated body left in Chaise’s flat as a warning to back off. Naturally, this has the opposite effect and the body count soon begins to mount up as Chaise goes on a one-man crusade to bring these Europeans down.

When the S.I.S in London gets wind of this, they decide to rein Chaise in, and that’s when it becomes really nasty!

A contemporary thriller set in the sordid world of human trafficking; this second in the series pulls no punches and will appeal to anybody who likes their thrillers violent, fast moving and with lots of twists.’

The first book, ‘Burnt Offerings’ is available through Amazon, on the Kindle and in paperback:

Burnt Offerings (A Paul Chaise Adventure)

So, it has certainly been busy, as I said at the start. Soon I shall turn my mind to the third in the Paul Chaise series (I have some ideas, of course) but as for Hardrada, well, I am already 25,000 words into the third part. I envisage it going to at least four volumes, possibly five. His is such a fascinating story. Some have compared it to Game of Thrones, but apart from the intrigue and the killing – oh, and the sex – there really is little to compare. George R.R. Martin’s word is episodic and brilliant in its breadth, an awesome achievement from a superb writer. I am humbled to be compared to his majestic talent, but Hardrada is no fantasy figure. What he did was real. A giant in Viking history and a man who, for far too long, has been buried away under the piles of literature written about William, Duke of Normandy. Everybody feared Hardrada, including the Duke. I wonder what would have happened if Hardrada had prevailed at Stamford Bridge…? Now, there’s fuel for thought … and possibly a damn good book too!

Thanks for dropping by, and keep reading!

Adventures in Writing … the best is yet to come!

Just this week we said goodbye to a really great bunch of students at my school as they went off on their study leave. They are wonderful young adults, hard workers, determined but filled with fun and excitement as they look forward to the rest of their lives. Despite their relief and joy at taking the final step which would see them leaving school behind forever, their farewells were tinged with sadness.

I remember when I left school.

I was fifteen. As I walked out of the main gate, everyone was throwing their ties into a makeshift bonfire. Yes, we used to wear ties back then. My mother had warned me not to do anything to my tie, as she had already sold mine to our next-door neighbour’s son who would be starting at my school in a few short weeks. I hated school. Every single second. I used to lie awake on Sunday nights, unable to sleep, in a cold sweat at the thought of spending yet another week in that most ghastly of places. From first light on Monday morning I would pray for it to be Friday evening.

What a waste.

All those years, tramping along the street on my journey to and from school, wishing to God I was anywhere else.

And now I’m a teacher.

Ironic, yes?

About the only things that got me through were my friends and my writing. Even back then I’d write lots; scripts for plays, novels, a comedy magazine. I never had any real plans, no ambitions as such, but I always knew one day I’d be a best-selling author. I don’t know why. I have an in-built gift I believe for observation. I listen, learn, think. I store away a huge amount of information which I can return to whenever I’m dreaming up situations and characters. I’ve also experienced a fair bit, been through the mill, loved, lost far too much, and met the most amazing people.

Experience is what makes a writer, and the ability to put those experiences into words. All the books, boot-camps and seminars can’t teach you any of that. You look into your soul, deeper than deep, and you trawl up the hurt and the pain, the joy and the love. You cannot write about something you do not know. Yes. I’ve experienced. And my gift is to be able to relay it in the books I write.

I’ve learned by writing, and reading damned good books. I’ve listened to my editors, revisited author’s words to see if they did the same things. I’ve seen how the great writers break all the rules, and I’ve learned that intuition is the greatest weapon to bring to the keyboard. Believe in yourself, in what you want, in your words, your message.

Those students left my school with regrets probably, knowing they had left one of the most wonderful periods of their life.

I left school knowing the best periods were still to come.

I have received a number of mesmerising reviews for Varangian over the last few days, one which brought tears to my eyes. Here is the link, simply click on the image and then scroll down the new amazon page and you’ll see it:

Varangian (Byzantine Histories)

Adventures in Writing…oh so many ‘authors’…

I sometimes feel like one of those ‘grumpy old men’, which was such a wonderful series on BBC. It may have been politically incorrect, but it was spot on.

Why do I feel this way?

Well, okay, here goes.

I, along with many of you probably, join a group online. It is supposed to be a support group, a place where you can go to share stories, seek advice, listen to those who have been through it all and come out the other end smelling of roses.

Well … how many times to you open an email from one of these groups and are presented by such declarations as, ‘So-and-so’s new thriller is the best thing I’ve ever read, buy it now!’ Or (even more sickening ) ‘I’ve just discovered my latest thriller ‘The Private Dick is not as Big as you Thought’ has got to number 10 in the Amazon’s ‘low-life thriller’ chart!’

Why is it that every single group I’m a member of, no matter where: Facebook, Linked-In, Goodreads, is hi-jacked by these people. And, even WORSE, is when I try to do something similar, my post is suspended and I receive a really snotty letter from the administrator (not Facebook, I’m relieved to say!). I can’t fathom it. It must be me.

And then, today, I received an email inviting me to join Amazon’s ‘FAST TRACK’ . For a small ‘donation’ I can get five reviews. I’m relieved to read it does not say ‘Five 5-star reviews’ because that would be so wrong I’d be forced to post a blog about it.

Sounds great, doesn’t it. But imagine, all those countless thousands of ‘authors’ out there, desperate to sell their books and make a million. They’ll be pushing and shoving to get those reviews. Because it is easy, right?

Are you, like me, one of those authors who post their books on any number of Facebook groups and then, perhaps once a week, perhaps once upon a rainbow weekend, you go onto said site and simply scroll down, and down, and down, and… And you never once stop because you are sick to the back teeth of seeing these awful self-effacing adverts? Well, I’m sick of it. So what is the point? Nobody stops to read what these adverts have to say. There are perhaps fifty million authors out there (okay, okay, I exaggerate, but it feels that way sometimes) and most of them are simply awful. And, swimming around the edges of this pond of sickening banality, are the sharks and the crocs. The countless ‘experts’ who offer every trick in the book to make you a best-selling author.

I wonder when it will end?

I wonder when it will get back to readers buying good books, and authors writing good books.

Do you think it will happen? And how are we to know the good from the dreadful? The Kindle explosion has done no end of harm to those writers who are good. Readers are a discerning bunch. They pick up a piece of pap and will never, ever pick up anything that is offered free or cut-price again. They don’t want to take the chance. So, they buy their 12.50 edition of a Kindle by an author whom they know and trust. We’re doomed. You and me, the good ones.

Well, I’m going to watch some re-runs of ‘Grumpy old Men’, sit back, and wallow in the knowledge that I’m not the only one, that I may be a grump, but actually, every now and then, I do actually speak some sense!

My follow-up to Burnt Offering has now been accepted for publication.

 

Burnt Offerings is now available at a new, reduced price for the Kindle. Visit any Amazon site to take advantage.

I can’t say when it will be out yet, so watch this space. In the meantime, pick up the first in the series and enjoy!

Thanks for passing by.

Adventures in Writing…paid reviews? NO THANKS!

One of the biggest struggles about being a writer isn’t so much the writing. That’s the cool part. Imagination, the spinning together of all the various threads: character, scenarios, plots, etc, etc…wow, wouldn’t it be so great to simply sit and write…whimsical thoughts, probably. Because, as we all know, we now have to sell ourselves. And that is such a pain.

Well, okay, so you’ve told the world. The world being Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, websites, newspapers, magazines, friends, family, the neighbour’s dog. You may even have placed an ad in Goodreads, like me. Wow, Goodreads. 40,000 people viewed my ad. 30 have clicked on it. Mm…30 clicks. And sales…hold your breath…nil.

So, friends. We persuade our publisher to reduce the price, get some interest moving. They moan and groan. ‘I’ll make no money’. Oh, so you’ll make more by NOT selling it for $13 dollars? Sure, if someone bought it, but they don’t! When we try and give away our books, what happens? Nobody picks them up. They’re free. Nobody is interested.

And then, one fine day, somebody does take hold of your book and they love it. They write a review. It is fantastic. You rub your hands with glee, because now you have not one, but FIVE stunning reviews.

This truly is the turning point.

It isn’t.

So, by this time you’re really up against it. What to do. Your book is reduced in price, it is on promotion, you are telling the whole world, reviews are great and we all know that reviews help sell so… you need more reviews.

I went on Amazon and I looked up some reviews for books similar to mine. I got in touch with those people who had given these reviewed books only one star. They seemed honest. Honest enough to reply to my question, ‘Why haven’t you read my book, as it is much better than this one?’ Well, okay, I didn’t say it quite like that, but you know what I mean. One of them told me something very interesting. He told me to be wary of 5-star reviews, that many of them are paid reviewers. He gave me some names and I began to look them up. Sure enough, they churn out these things by the lorry load. 5-stars reviews like they are falling around us like snow in the Alps. And there are HUNDREDS of these guys. Furthermore, authors are PAYING them!

Is that honest? Is that cheating?

I think so. They must have money to burn too, as these reviews don’t come cheap. Imagine, paying out 10 dollars for each review, receiving 50 5-star reviews. Five hundred dollars. Not much I hear you say, and the sales – whoa, the sales! They are fantastic. Pretty soon you are climbing up the ladder. You are 10,000, 5,000, TWO HUNDRED in the pop chart of sales!!!

But then you come to write your second book. If you can write a second book that is. If you’re interested, if you have the will, the desire, let alone the talent. You write it, and despite all the reviews in all the world, you don’t sell any.

Why not? Because it’s crud, that’s why. Just like the first one. The only difference is, now everyone knows it. The bluff can’t work twice.

You might even be tempted to go and buy some advertising on one of those book promotion sites which are all the rage. Sure, brilliant. The free ones…well, your book will get lost amongst all the others, so BUY an ad. It’ll only cost you around 1200 dollars. WHAT? Am I mad? Somebody must be, to actually buy this stuff.

I’m so tired of it all. I am. The whole bandwagon. Buy this, do that. Bootcamps and snowflakes. Three part novels and five part novels. Pulses and beats.

Why in the name of sanity can’t people write because they can? Because they NEED to?

I’m a lonely voice, lost in the corporate, self gratifying bilge of world that is called publishing.

But do I care? Well, I’m just completing an 80,000 word thriller, and about to edit my sequel to Varangian. So, I don’t care. Two-fingers, is what I say. I’ll write and if I sell, cool.

Stick with it.

My books Varangian, Roadkill and Burnt Offerings are all on promotion until the end of the month. Be quick and buy your Kindle version soon. You won’t regret it, I promise. Just read the reviews…and none of them paid for!

 

Adventures in writing…what happens when social media doesn’t work?

It’s almost March already. I can’t believe it, can you?

Where did February go?

Do you often find yourself asking these questions? I do, all the time. And it happens with books too. I had an arrangement with a local market-holder to stock some of my books, so I ordered a few. When they arrived I half-heartedly picked one up and leafed through. I began to read, and was hooked! Had I actually written this? I couldn’t remember. Eighty thousand words, where did I find the time?

Weird.

Well, as for February, it was pretty crud. Things got the better of me. I’m in a job I no longer love and I’m stuck in a country I want to get out of. To do that I need a job, and I can’t get one. I’m too old. I posted some of my feelings on FaceBook (which is not to be recommended, and in the cold light of day I was an idiot to do so) and fairly soon people were telling me I am depressed and should go to the doctor’s for some medication.

Dear God.

Me, on medication…FOR DEPRESSION.

No thanks.

The whole point is, I am fairly hacked off with all this publishing business. Note publishing NOT writing. I’m not self-published, by the way. I don’t ever want to be. I have nothing against self-published authors, but the sudden explosion of such authors has had a negative impact. Some are good, I concede that. BUT, there are hundreds of thousands of folk out there who believe all they have to do is sit in front of a keyboard and bash out any old gloop in order to earn a million. This has done irreparable damage to all of us. Readers, a discerning bunch, are now wary of ‘new’ writers. Too many badly written, and dreadfully edited, self-published books are out there. So, trying to break through is virtually impossible. All you can really do is write GOOD books, a lot of books. Keep going and try…

I write and submit to agents and independents. Some of them have seen something in what I do to offer me a contract. And here comes the reason for my current low, which I touched on last time but want to go into further detail here – one of my publishers has refused to publish the sequel to another work because the sales have not been so good.

I was crushed by this. He even said I was ‘a terrific writer’. My books receive 4 and 5-star reviews, so it’s not like I’m crap. BUT…it’s all about money, isn’t it. Sales.

Sales. Jeez, I hate selling. I hate all this marketing and promotional stuff. I can’t do it; it simply doesn’t fit well with the sort of person I am. I have little self-belief, lack self-confidence, am the sort of guy who sits in the corner at parties and nobody notices. There is no way I can suddenly leap up and start sounding off about how great I am. Because I’m not. I’m just a grunt, down in the trenches, working every day to put together stories that people might enjoy.

The problem is, not enough of them are buying to discover this for themselves.

So, I’ve tried. I offered free books. Imagine, a free book and in return all the reader had to do was post a review. Because reviews help. Well, I posted and posted, and I’ve submitted my books to review sites, promotional sites, endless, endless posts on FB and Twitter…over 9,000 people saw one of my posts. NINE THOUSAND! How many people actually responded? Two.

So, I’m close to giving up. Not writing, I’ll always do that, but I’m just about rock bottom…and then, oh glorious, wondrous day…something GOOD came out of all of this. One of the few people who responded asked me a simple question, ‘Have you got an agent, because if you haven’t I can introduce you to mine’.

A good friend told me something good always comes out of something bad. And it looks as though it might. I wrote to the agent, sent them one of my books and…she says she is interested! Now, I’m not jumping up and down because she is still reading it, but… So, I’m now gnawing my fingers to the bone, waiting, waiting, waiting.

So, I could turn it around. I could break through. I could.

February? It disappeared in a blur of mixed emotions.

Perhaps March might prove to be filled with sunshine!

Why not visit my websites and find out what I do. And don’t forget, by dropping me an email (at sg.yates@yahoo.co.uk) you can receive a free copy of any one of my books!

www.glennstuart.co.uk

http://www.stuartgyates.com

 

Adventures in writing…some news and updates

Just an update this month, together with some thoughts about being a writer, but no spouting off I promise! Well, maybe just a little…

Being a writer is so hard, it really is. Every step of the way there are insurmountable obstacles put in your way, preventing you from ever moving forward. I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels this way. I’ll try and put this into some sort of context.

Yes, I’m published, but that doesn’t really mean very much. I’m published by Indies, so I’m not well known, nor do my books appear in bookshops. I’ve been published by seven publishers, so I guess I must be doing something right. This gives me some little cause to be grateful. I only wish editors from one of the big six liked my writing as much!

Only one of my publishers is proactive, forever giving me all sorts of advice, helping me to get myself out there in the cold, hard world of fiction, but others do nothing; they don’t even keep their websites up to date. Strange. I see it as a partnership, but I seem to be alone in that idea. Surely, it would be in their interest to help, perhaps do some marketing themselves, arrange something? Everything is down to me. And finding the time is the biggest obstacle of all and it would be nice to have a little help now and then. But no. Like I say, ‘strange’. But they are all different. Some have gone out of business, one was a crook, one is great, the others indifferent. And contracts, my God…contracts are such an obstacle. Being ‘locked-in’ is something for us all to be conscious of. Some own your characters, others own YOU. This can be somewhat scary. Just make sure you read the small print.

Other obstacles are purely personal. I write of a weekend, getting up early on Saturday and Sunday, wiring until around one o’clock. In that time I can get down anything from three to ten thousand words, depending on how swift the creative juices are flowing. During the week I come home shattered and rarely do I feel like sitting in front of the keyboard. For my latest book, I am trying to do that, as I’m gripped by the story and want it done. I love writing thrillers. They are so escapist. I don’t have to research a thing, nothing but my own imagination to push me forward. Historical fiction is tremendously hard work. I love it, but it is a much slower, more involved process. So, right now I’m writing a new thriller, and editing the second in my Harald Hardrada books at the same time. When done this will go to the publisher, and I’ll work with them to get it ready for publishing.

I’m so busy. I’ve just been reading a writer friend’s programme, and he is even busier! But, he is a full-time writer, successful, published by a top-notch publishing house with all that means. I’m so envious of him. He’s a great writer, a great bloke, but I am worn out by his energy. And humbled.

I’ll never be able to do all that.

I’m locked inside a profession I no longer respect, and a dream I can never fulfil.

I tried to get one of my publishers interested in a sequel to a book I wrote last year. But they say they will not handle it as sales have been so disappointing. So, right now I’m offering readers a free copy of one of my books if they will place a review on Amazon. An honest review. However, hardly anybody is taking up the offer. I remember this happening to me at a market once, when I was giving away free bookmarks. One man looked at me with such utter distaste I thought I had somehow offended him. ‘No,’ he said, and turned away. I followed and said, ‘It’s totally free. A bookmark.’ He turned and glared, ‘No.’ He had with him his son and daughter, and I looked down at the boy, smiling, and said, ‘Do you read? Some of my books are aimed at young people. Would you like a bookmark?’ I thought his father would explode, but the boy took it, and the girl read it. I watched them all move away, and saw the father tear it up and throw it in a bin.

So…what hope is there convincing people to read a free book, when they cannot even accept a bookmark?

It’s a hard, unfathomable world at times. Obstacles abound, and in writing they forever mount up, from the disinterest of agents and public, to the apathy of publishers. Even bookshops never reply to my requests to do book signings. Perhaps it’s me. Yes, it must be. What I need, of course, is a secretary. Unpaid of course!

Any offers?

Thanks for dropping by. Catch up with outlines to my books and where to buy them by visiting my website. www.stuartgyates.com. And please, don’t forget, a free book awaits if you can do a review. Just drop me a line and I’ll get a copy to you as quickly as I can.