Mark Allen's Blog, page 3

BOOK REVIEW: The Country Club by Tim Miller

Buy on AmazonConfession time: I am freaked out by the thought of being tortured. Spiders, clowns, nude Hillary Clinton photos … none of these things make me shiver. But the thought of being strapped down and unable to move while some sick psycho scoops out my eyeballs with a rusty spoon … yeah, that kind of nastiness crawls right under my skin and stays there. So a movie like Hostel hits the right horror notes for me.

The same thing applies when reading Tim Miller’s The Country Club , because there is no dodging the fact that the book borrows heavily from Hostel. It’s not the soulless rip-off that some critics have claimed, but the word “homage” can definitely be applied. But hey, who cares? Nothing new under the sun and all that jazz, right? What really matters is whether or not the story entertains and as long as you count yourself among the extreme horror demographic, the answer is an unequivocal yes.

What this book does better than the film that seems to have inspired it is get right down to the bloody business. While Hostel took an eternity plus an eon to deliver the good stuff, The Country Club ain’t got time for that. It hits the ground full-throttle, no foreplay, no mucking about—we came here for literary torture-porn and, the gods of gore bless him, that’s what Miller gives us without any teasing around the proverbial bush. No need to slog through 300 pages of dull filler before someone gets their molars power-drilled sans Novocain.

Miller puts his stripped down, no frills, matter-of-fact style to good use here as he details the strap-'em-down-and-make-'em-bleed torments of the titular club. Scalping, cannibalism, starving rats, dismemberment, power sander mayhem … the plethora of punishments dished out by the wealthy clients will make you cringe. In fact, one scene in particular, involving a newborn baby, arguably goes too far (Miller admits to receiving mega hate mail regarding this sequence) and may justifiably be a gag-inducing deal-breaker for some readers. Not since the infant scene in JF Gonzalez’s Survivor has a horror scene hit me this hard.

That said, this is extreme horror, and lines are meant to be crossed, taboos violated, good taste thrown out the window along with the contents of the barf bucket. Reading an extreme horror novel and then complaining about disgusting stuff is like picking up a Dr. Seuss book and complaining that it rhymes. In other words, you should know what to expect and if you pick up a Tim Miller novel expecting something tame, prepare to have your expectations effed up seven ways from Sunday.

Listen, Miller ain't for everybody. Heck, some would say he shouldn’t be for anybody. But if you can handle it raw and rough, he may just put a big ol' smile on your face ... or across your throat. You don’t need to have guts to read Tim Miller … he’ll provide them for you.

BOOK REVIEW--The Jury Series #1: Judgment by Lee Goldberg

Buy on AmazonVigilantes are a main staple—perhaps the main staple—of the men’s action-adventure genre. After all, who doesn't love a good, pulpy—that’s brain pulp, mind you—“justice from the barrel of a gun" vigilante story? When a badass with a big gun steps outside the law to dispense payback and retribution, I tend to stand up and cheer. Which is awkward when I’m trying to sneak in a few pages during the Sunday morning church service.

The Jury Series #1: Judgment was written back in the '80s heyday of the men's action-adventure craze and features everything carnage connoisseurs covet: a revenge-centric plot, a rough-and-tumble protagonist, heads blown off by heavy-caliber bullets, and dollops of ludicrous sex. (Interesting side-note: Goldberg originally wanted to make the hero impotent but the publisher poured cold water all over that idea. Remember, this was the era of macho men; limp dicks needed not apply for their own action series.)

The quality of prose makes Judgment rise above many of its contemporaries. Granted, not exactly Shakespearean, but definitely a cut above. Because let’s be honest, as much as we all devoured the Executioners and Penetrators and Destroyers and Butchers and the myriad other "-ers" that riddled truck stop book racks back in the day, the writing often left something to be desired. Revisiting some of those old series, even with the glint of nostalgia in my eye, I have realized they many of them were nowhere near as good as I believed them to be in my youth. 

That's why the skill Lee Goldberg—a college student at the time no less—brought to the game feels like a breath of fresh air: it's got all the gory goods, but they're well-written goods, with some slick phrasing and a welcome streak of humor. Who can’t help but chuckle at a backseat oral sex scene like this:

“When Stacy, in the midst of their fervent groping, unzipped his pants without coercion and dropper her head between his legs, Macklin almost fainted with surprise and anxiety. He had never expected her to do that, not in his wildest fantasies. When he opened his eyes afterwards, he expected to see powder burns on Stacy’s face, a hole in the Corvair’s ceiling, and a contrail in the night sky.”

So '80s it will kill you.Sure, aside from the above-par writing, there is nothing original here, but if you're reading a book about a .357 vigilante (the novel's original title, by the way), do you really want much deviation from the expected norm? You've got the good guy blowing out the bad guys' brains while making quips and getting laid. And that sentence right there is all you need to know to judge whether or not you'll like this book. In fact, if at any point during this review you’ve thought this book sounded interesting, you owe it to yourself to give it a whirl. It might not be literary gold, but it's definitely a crown jewel of the guns ‘n’ guts genre.

BOOK REVIEW--The Executioner #429: Arctic Kill by Joshua Reynolds

Buy on AmazonBack in the decade of hair metal and parachute pants (that’s the ‘80s, for you young’uns), I devoured The Executioner and all its various spin offs (Able Team, Phoenix Force, etc.). The literary gluttony started when I picked up The Executioner #128: Sudan Slaughter  in a bait shop of all places, sandwiched between boxes of worms and a stack of dog-eared Grace Livingston Hill books. Granted, in retrospect, it wasn’t a high-caliber entry in the Mack Bolan canon, but my 16 year-old self thought it was the cat’s whiskers (whatever that means). I immediately tracked down the whole series, haunting used bookstores like a hungry addict.

But as the ‘90s rolled into town and the plots became monotonously "terrorist of the month" oriented, I abandoned the series and vowed it would be a cold day in Hell before I returned.

Well, lace up the ice skates and get ready to play hockey in Hades, because 20 years later I find myself once again drawn to the heroic, justice-serving, cool-cat warrior that is Mack Bolan. I queued Arctic Kill up on my Kindle and whipped through it in a couple of days. After two decades of Flynn and Thor and Clancy and all the political machinations that buffer the action in those thrillers, it was a refreshing change of pace to read a straight-forward action-adventure yarn again.

And for better or worse (you can make an argument either way), nothing has changed. Mack Bolan is exactly how I left him back in the mid-90s, right down to his aliases. (Seriously, shouldn’t he have some new ones at this point? Surely by now all the criminals and terrorists have at least heard of Striker/Cooper/Phoenix. But I digress…)

Anyway, the fact that I can jump back into this series 20 years and 100s of books later without getting lost is both its strength and weakness. Personally, with my graciousness boosted by nostalgia, I was happy that The Executioner seemed so familiar. But I would not challenge to a duel anyone who argued that such sameness exhibits stagnation. Then again, Big Macs haven’t changed much since their inception and people wolf them down by the millions. As for this particular entry, much like Bolan himself, it shows that the series hasn’t changed much: swiftly-paced, competently written, and action-packed.

Another thing that hasn’t changed, regrettably, is the sterility of the violence. One of the reasons I bailed on Bolan back before the turn of the millennium was because the series significantly tamped down on the explicitness of the action scenes. Maybe the writers changed or maybe it was an editorial decision, but bloody brain bits and dripping skull fragments no longer splashed the wall; instead, we got kills like, "The Beretta spoke and the target went down." In other words, The Executioner went PG-13 and frankly, it sucked donkey balls. 

Sad to say, judging from Arctic Kill , it appears 20 years later that nothing has changed in the carnage department. Not saying I need a splatter-punk-style gore-fest a la David Alexander’s Phoenix series (though I wouldn't complain!), but I do prefer my action scenes on the bloodier, R-rated end of the spectrum. This site is called Guns ‘n’ Guts for a reason.

But the series’ inability to meet my gore quotient is not a deal-breaker. I enjoyed my return to the bullets-blazing world of Bolan enough that I will certainly check out more of The Executioner's modern-day incarnation. Maybe man cannot live on Big Macs alone, but they sure are tasty every once in a while.

The Assassin's Betrayal now available as audiobook

With the audiobook market exploding like a bundle of TNT tossed into a bonfire, I figured it was time to get in the game. Besides, the Amazon-affiliated ACX (Audiobook Creation Exchange) made it pretty simple to produce an audiobook, so why not? The way I looked at it, not giving it a shot was pretty much like leaving money on the table. And like most indie authors, I’m always hunting for new ways to make money with my writing. Doing it “for the love of the art” is nice and all, but it doesn’t put beer in the fridge or Big Macs on the table.
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So I headed over to ACX and began auditioning producers for my latest novel, The Assassin’s Betrayal . I got lucky and received 5 auditions in the first 48 hours, but once I heard Chris Rice narrate my story, I knew I had found my guy. He just nailed the vibe I was looking for. Though I must admit the producer who narrated the sample in a deep, thickly-accented British baritone was … interesting.

Anyway, Chris and I hashed out a split royalty deal—because no way was I forking out a few grand on an unknown venture—and he buckled down to business and the end result is that The Assassin’s Betrayal is now available as a professionally-produced audiobook on Audible, Amazon, and iTunes.

The process was relatively painless, if a bit time-consuming, and I’d be lying if I said it’s not kind of cool to hear a professional read your novel out loud. Of course, what I’m really hoping is that you will find it cool to hear a professional read my novel out loud. While I can’t say I’m in a rush to do another audiobook, I certainly would not rule it out, especially if the sales make it worth the while. Maybe when I finish revisions on The Assassin’s Prayer , I’ll look into adapting that one. Because as far as I’m concerned, the audiobook market can never have too much guns ‘n’ guts.

Now, for those of you who are reading this but can’t afford the price tag or just don’t feel like putting your hard-earned cash into my pocket, I have 20 free download codes available so you can grab The Assassin’s Betrayal audiobook at no cost. Shoot me an email (markcallen777@gmail.com) or leave a comment under this post and I’ll hook you up. First come, first served, and everyone who leaves a 5-star review gets a free Glock … and by “Glock,” I mean a pink water pistol from Dollar General.

Mid-Year Writing Update

With the front half of 2016 now in the rear-view mirror, I thought I would pause a moment to post an update on my current writing projects. As it stands right now, I have 3 irons in the fire:

1. Warlock #1: “Autofire Blitz.” Designed to kick off a string of balls-out action-adventure novellas, the Warlock series introduces Damien “Warlock” Locke, a quick-trigger mercenary with amnesia, so he has no idea where he gained his ruthless combat skills. Hired to rescue a DEA agent’s son who has been kidnapped by a Colombian drug lord, Locke blitzes his way up a cocaine pipeline and uncovers a dirty DEA-cartel alliance that goes all the way to the top. From sin-soaked city streets to steaming jungle hell-zones, Locke unleashes an autofire scourge that will make the bastards pay.

Warlock is my homage to the old-school men’s action series and one-man-army movies of the ‘80s (think Commando, Rambo, etc.). It is deliberately designed to be a low drag, high-velocity guns ‘n’ guts bonanza with everything pushed into over-the-top territory, particularly the badass attitude and bullet-crushing violence. Put this one in the “action–splatter” category.

2. It’s Always Darkest Before You Die. This upliftingly-named project is a collection of short horror stories in collaboration with Derric Miller. In the past, Derric and I have always co-written our horror stuff together, but for this anthology, we each wrote our own short stories, with only one title—“Gurgles,” a ghost story—being co-written. For the most part, these will be new, previously-unpublished shorts, with authorial notes detailing how each story came to be.

This anthology was one of those spur of the moment ideas; during a chat, Derric and I remarked how we both had stacks of unpublished short stories sitting in our desk drawers. And just like that, we decided to dust ‘em off, give ‘em a fresh coat of paint, and release them to the masses. Hope you like your horror raw, bloody, and bleak…
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3. The Assassin’s Prayer (rewrite). This was the first book I ever published and like all debut novels (or any novel, for that matter) it has its flaws. But the luxury of being an indie author is that I retain full control of my work, which means I can go back and make changes if I so choose. I am not giving The Assassin’s Prayer a major overhaul; all I am doing is culling some (not all) of the grimness and melancholy that was a common complaint among readers. In this mildly revamped version, Kain spends less time moping in his whiskey.

What I am NOT doing is changing the controversial ending. Yes, many readers dislike the way the book ends, but an equal number appreciate the boldness of the climax. Regardless, while the ending may have limited the novel’s commercial appeal, I still believe it was the right ending to the story I wanted to tell.

My goal is to have Warlock published by the end of the year, It’s Always Darkest Before You Die out by Halloween (is there a better time to release a horror collection?), and the revamped The Assassin’s Prayer available … whenever.
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After that? God only knows. I have at least one more Assassins novel outlined. Derric and I still have plans to write a sequel to Gristle called Meat Your Maker. Of course, for Warlock to become an actual series there needs to be more than one book, so I need to bang out a few more of those. Jack Reece (the sarcastic P.I. from “The Killing Question” and probably my most popular character to date) still needs a full-length novel. And I have the rough draft of an epic (well, if you count 150,000 words as epic) supernatural action-thriller about vigilante angels just waiting to be edited. Because who doesn’t want to read about scumbags getting righteously slaughtered by angels with machineguns?

One thing’s for sure—you keep reading, I’ll keep writing. (Actually, I’ll keep writing even if you don’t keep reading, but I much prefer it the other way.)

MOVIE REVIEW: 13 Hours--The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi (2016)

By now, we all know the story (well, sort of)—on September 11, 2012, Libyan extremists attacked the US Consulate in Benghazi, murdering Ambassador Christopher Stevens. Stationed a mile away were 6 members of the Annex Security Team, ex-soldiers turned private security specialists hired to protect operatives and diplomats in the city. As the deadly assault raged on, the 6 men ignored a stand-down order and engaged the enemy in a series of firefights to save the lives of the remaining Americans.

Let’s get one thing straight right from the get-go: I am reviewing 13 Hours solely from the perspective of an action movie. The political angle is not something I wish to discuss here. Sure, I have my own opinions of Hillary Clinton, but this is not a political rant. The film doesn’t include that aspect and neither will I. We can save the axe-grinding for another time.

"Yes, I DO want fries with that."With the politics ignored, 13 Hours can be enjoyed for what it is—a bombastic (as only Michael Bay can do) action flick about gritty warriors doing gutsy things while bullets fly. Depth, nuance, and subtlety are eschewed in favor of autofire and explosions. I make no apologies for being a Michael Bay fan; simply put, I appreciate his popcorn visuals. You can poke fun at his rapid cuts and frequent slo-mo and his offbeat camera angles and his patriotic shots of the American flag and heroes silhouetted against a blazing sunset and you know what? I totally understand all the mocking and hate. But me, I love Bay’s directorial flourishes and when they’re applied to an R-rated action flick, yeah, I get a little excited.

13 Hours is very much in the vein of Last Survivor, Black Hawk Down, and Act of Valor, albeit filtered through the Michael Bay aesthetic. Characterization is minimal, the political back-story is all but jettisoned, and instead we simply focus on 6 men who refused to stand by and let Americans die. The action is fast and furious and everything blows up real good.

The movie runs too long at nearly 2.5 hrs. and would have benefited from some trimming, but it’s rarely boring and the constant gun battles ensure action fans get their fix, even if that fix drags on longer than it should and risks viewer fatigue (it is possible to have too much action). And since this is “based on a true story,” the film doesn’t stray far from the facts and therefore just sort of ends. And because of that adherence to facts, there is no primary villain to root against, no main bad guy to cathartically watch meet their demise. Granted, none of this can really be avoided, but the abrupt, anti-climactic ending might leave some action aficionados dissatisfied.

What will satisfy many of those aficionados is the hard-R rating. It’s not extremely graphic or gory (save a scene toward the end) but there is blood and the overall tone is tough and gritty; no neutered PG-13 crap here. I wish Bay would stop toying around with the Transformers and make more action movies like this. But as they say, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

Listen, if you’re looking for an insightful documentary about the Benghazi tragedy, this isn’t it. But if you’re simply in the mood for a slickly-directed guns ‘n’ guts action bonanza, this fits the bill. It’s the best thing Bay has done in a long time and while it doesn’t rise to the level of The Rock or Bad Boys, it’s good to see him back on R-rated, bullets-blazing cinematic turf.

BOOK REVIEW: "First Contract" by Frank Westworth

Buy on Amazon“First Contract” is an origin story, chronicling the recruitment of protagonist JJ Stone into the bloody world of black ops and the details of his first assignment. This was my first introduction to Stone--and his creator, Frank Westworth--but the chances of it being my last are about as slim as me having tea and crumpets with Queen Elizabeth this evening. Because I don’t like crumpets. Or tea, for that matter. Except iced tea, sweetened. With lots of sugar. But I digress…

Speaking of sugar, this short story doesn’t have much (if any). Instead, it sports all the ingredients action-thriller fans crave: a rough-and-tumble protagonist, plenty of action, brutal violence, crackling dialogue, and deftly-handled plot twists. JJ Stone is a character you can root for, despite the fact that he is a bit more ruthless than your typical "hero" (seriously, check out how coldly he executes some prisoners at the beginning). Oh, and he rides a Harley Davidson, which instantly makes him jump up at least two notches on the coolness scale.

This story packs a lot of action into not a lot of pages (about 25 or so) and even better, it’s fairly graphic. Maybe not Joseph Rosenberger or David Alexander graphic, but it’s not kiddie stuff either.  I am not a fan of sterile, "PG-13" violence and neither, it seems, is Westworth. Things get messy and for that, God bless him and pass the brewskies.

While style is always subjective, it does merit mention that the prose frequently leans toward the overly descriptive end of the spectrum. Not flowery or anything like that—this is an action thriller, not Jane Austen—but sometimes the writing gets a little wordy when something shorter and punchier might have sufficed. That said, the thriller genre is oversaturated, bloated with authors who strip their prose down to the bare bones, barren of any sense of style in the quest to be described as "tight, terse, and economical" just like every other novel in this market, so it can be refreshing to read something that dares to be a little different and roams down the road of richer language.

Bottom line, if you're a fan of the guns ‘n’ guts genre, Westworth is well worth checking out.

BOOK REVIEW: "Gator Bait" by Adam Howe

Buy on AmazonAdam Howe writes with pitch-black wit and gulp-worthy violence in “Gator Bait,” a swamp-noir-horror (swampoirror?) set during the 1930s Prohibition. Now, mixing a bayou period piece and horror is no easy task, but Howe pulls it off with aplomb by throwing some “creature feature” dynamics into the steamy stew and cooking up a pulpy recipe for literary success.

A ragtag drifter named Smitty opens the story by losing three fingers to a cuckolded husband. (On a side note, while reading this part, all I could think of was the, “On your finger scale, how was my wife?” scene from The Last Boy Scout. Man, I love that movie! But I digress…) Smitty, sans some digits, gets the eff outta Dodge and ends up in a sleazy backwater dive where the owner, Horace Croker, gives him a job playing the piano. At first Smitty sticks around for the money, but when he gets an eyeful of Grace, his boss’s smoking-hot-and-ready-to-trot wife, he finds another reason to stay. Problem is, Grace is in permanent “hands off” status and Horace has a nasty habit of taking those who piss him off and tossing them to Big George, the massive gator that lives behind—and under—the honky-tonk. You might think you can see where all this is going, but Howe has several twists up his sleeve and leavens the inevitability with some eye-popping surprises.

This novella is chock full of restless energy that prowls like a caged tiger and tight, gripping dialogue. Every facet of the story—plot, characters, setting, action—is skillfully rendered. This is rich, violent, pulpy fun from start to finish and I sported an ear-to-ear grin on my face as I read about all the dastardly doings down at the Grinnin’ Gator.

Bottom line, “Gator Bait” is Joe R. Lansdale chugging moonshine with John Skipp as Tobe Hooper fires up a blowtorch. And if that doesn’t make you want to read this, then nothing will.

A Co-Written Blog Post About Co-Writing

Mark’s thoughts…

Much like fried Brussel sprouts or Hillary Clinton, co-writing is not for everyone. Whenever I talk to fellow authors and mention that I co-author (with Derric Miller) for most of my horror projects, the first thing out of their mouths is typically, “I don’t know how you do that.”

Derric and I have thus far written one splatterpunk novella (“Mudslingers”) and one survival-horror novel ( Gristle ) together and are currently working on a short ghost story (“Gurgles”) for our upcoming anthology. We have also sketched out plans for a Gristle sequel as well as a Christmas horror novel about holiday icons (Santa Claus, Frosty, Rudolph, etc.) coming to life and turning murderous (we’re guessing Disney won’t be interested in the film rights). So while we may not have yet achieved the co-writing cult status of John Skipp & Craig Specter (our literary heroes and inspiration), we do have some experience at co-author shenanigans. Enough experience that we have figured out the #1 rule for harmonious co-writing.

Check your ego at the door.

Co-authoring is all about surrendering control of your writing to someone else. If you are consumed by the need to have every word on a page come from your brain, then co-authoring is not for you. If you cannot handle spending days/weeks/months writing something, only to have someone else shake it up and twist it all around, then co-authoring is not for you. If you cannot accept someone taking your words and deciding they can write some of them better, then co-authoring is not for you. So yeah, fragile egos and thin-skins need not apply.

For example, when writing “Mudslingers,” Derric one day decided to write the whole ending without even consulting me. I received a message in my inbox saying, “Yeah, I went ahead and ended the story. Hope you like it.” I could have screamed and hollered and thrown a temper tantrum and told him that was some straight up crap. But instead I just said, “Okay,” then sat down and added my twists to what he wrote. No muss, no fuss, because my ego did not demand that I have a say in how the story climaxed. Besides, even at my most sick and twisted, I probably couldn’t have conceived the deranged denouement Derric dug up. (Not sure if that’s compliment or condemnation…)

During an early draft of Gristle , Derric penned a sex scene that I disliked because a) it felt too comedic, and b) I didn’t feel the scene made sense at that point in the story. Derric took no offense to my criticism but remained firm that the lovemaking was vital to the plot. After some back-and-forth, we compromised by keeping the scene but rewriting it in a more serious tone. In other words, we checked our egos at the door and worked together toward a resolution we could both live with. I mean, yeah, I called him crazy and he called me a prude, but that’s all part of the creative process.

Now, in the interest of full disclosure, part of the reason Derric and I co-write so easily together is because Derric checks his ego more than I check mine. He’s the kind of guy who writes the first draft at blitzkrieg speed and then waits patiently while I pore over every word and typically has little issue with all the changes I make. Of course, I think I take so long doing my draft revisions that by the time I’m done, Derric just wants to get the book released and no longer cares about how much I altered what he wrote. So maybe the secret to co-authoring isn’t, “You need to check your ego at the door.” Maybe the secret to co-authoring is, “At least ONE of you needs to check your ego at the door.”

Bottom line, co-authoring is not for everyone. Even for myself, when it comes to my action fiction, I don’t think I could relinquish control enough to co-write with someone (though if Lee Child is interested, I’m willing to give it a go). But for some reason, I’m perfectly content to co-write horror. Find the right (write?) partner, slay your egos, and just have fun with it. After all, if you’re not having fun writing, what are you doing it for?

And now, it’s Miller time…

For the most part, I agree with Mark. I think going into a co-writing project—which I’d never done until we wrote the abomination known as “Mudslingers”—you just have to realize you won’t get everything you want and need to compromise. You know, like the exact opposite of how the U.S. Senate operates today.

With “Mudslingers,” Mark wrote the first chapter and sent it to me. As we were both music reviewers at Hardrock Haven at the time, the most we delved into the plot beforehand was, “we should have two music journalists battle it out to the death.” How their exact death came to fruition was never discussed, but the story arc basically meant they had to be in the same physical location at the same time … and then it came to me (as Mark said, “the deranged denouement). If you haven’t read it, it’s worth the .99 cents even if you only read the final chapter.

Mark decided the book should be chock full of metaphors, many of them (purposefully) overwrought. Not really my style, but he wrote the first chapter, meaning I had to follow his lead and not stylistically veer from the path he carved first. So I got in a groove and wrote, “His mouth opened wider than a glory hole in the bathroom at a Weight Watcher’s convention.” Mark nixed it. I didn’t complain. He didn’t like it. I didn’t care one way or the other.

Gristle was a whole different ballgame. I wrote the entire first draft with a lot of phone calls and input from Mark along the way. It was based off a screenplay Mark had penned years ago, so I had an outline to work with. Mark was busy working on The Assassin’s Betrayal , so he asked if I wanted to take the first stab. I did, but kept it short enough so he could add 20k words when his turn came. I tied myself up in knots trying to write the logistics of an escape scene; I was just too close to it. So I literally turned it over to Mark and said, “Fix it. I can’t.” And he sure as hell did. 

I don’t know if opposite styles is one reason we work well together. He’s right … I write at a frenetic pace. I am not hyper-critical of my writing. I do not bother to fix each typo as I go along. In radio interviews, I have described my style as, “Puking my words onto the page and cleaning it up later.” Mark couldn’t be more opposite. He’s diligent, methodical, but has the ability to write nearly every single day. He has the kind of dedication I need to work on.

Quick aside: I found writing “Mudslingers” hilarious at times. I’d turn over a chapter, then a few weeks would go by and Mark would finally send the next chapter … and I would then write the next chapter in a day or two and it’d be right back in his inbox. I’m sure part of him had to feel under pressure at times because I’m so fast. 

So yes, another aspect to co-writing is the pressure. You can’t come up with something half-assed and turn it over and say, “Good to go!” Neither one of us will let the other do that. So for me, there’s a voice saying, “Don’t let Mark down.”

Gee, does that mean we are actually learning from each other and making us both better writers? I can’t speak for Mark (just co-write with him) but I know I’m becoming better at my craft each project we create together.

Co-writing is not easy and it’s not for everyone, especially those who take themselves too seriously. But when you do it right … it’s fun as hell.

Oh yeah, one last note … Mark and I have never met in person. Ever. Wrap your head around that one, kids.

BOOK REVIEW: "Kill Zone" by Zeke Mitchell

Buy on AmazonThey say to never judge a book by its cover, but many readers still do and sometimes—just sometimes—it pays off. For example, when I saw the cover of Zeke Mitchell’s Kill Zone, with its assault rifle and flame-kissed fonts, I judged that it would be a hard-hitting action novel with a serious ‘80s vibe and that’s exactly what I got.

You remember back in the '80s when noble one-man-armies like The Executioner rampaged against the evildoers, killing them mercilessly? When Chuck Norris and others of that Uzi-toting ilk stormed across the silver screen putting buckets of bullets into scumbags? Yeah, so does Zeke Mitchell and he expertly captures the vintage spirit of those old action-adventure series, writing in the same "kill 'em all and let God sort 'em out" zone that made those books such (not) guilty pleasures. Seriously, if this novel had been written back in the glory days of the genre and then turned into a movie, the producers would have immediately called Schwarzenegger and offered him the starring role. (Well, unless it was being produced by Cannon, who probably would have settled for Michael Dudikoff.)

The plot is minimal, just enough to hang a series of ceaseless action sequences on, and our stone-cold yet honorable protagonist (Matt Thorn) wastes more villains in this book than all the Rambo movies combined (OK, maybe a slight exaggeration ... but just a slight one). The carnage count is wildly absurd in all the right ways. Everywhere Thorn turns, there are bad guys popping out of the woodwork to waste him ... only to get wasted themselves instead. Sure, the thugs are piss poor shots while the hero rarely misses, but that's all part of the genre. You want realism, stick to Schlindler’s List or something. Me, I just kept on grinning as I watched (read) one enemy gunman after another get chopped to bits by auto-fire.

The level of graphic violence merits mention. This ain’t no PG-13, watered down, sissified action. This is hard-R stuff, with exploding heads, ripped flesh, splattered brains, popped-out eyes, gushing blood, and enough body parts to fill a butcher shop. None of that “the enemy target clutched his chest and fell to the ground” bloodless bullcrap here.

Bottom line, Kill Zone is a great kickoff to what should be a killer action series. If you enjoy nonstop shoot-‘em-up action, then prepare to be impressed. This one is all guns 'n' guts and loaded with so much auto-fire action, I could practically smell the cordite seeping out of my Kindle.