Saying "No"

Some of you undoubtedly read my tweet yesterday:

"I just turned down a book offer. Why?"

As I tried to explain in the subsequent tweetage, it was an offer on my first book. I wasn't sure I wanted it "out there". But there's more, of course.

The offer was from an e-book company (a very solid e-book publisher, I might add). When I subbed the book in the summer of 2009, the poor dear had gone through massive edits--maybe twenty rounds or more. It is my oldest child, the one who faces the parental missteps and unintentional abuses. I just wasn't sure I wanted to let it leave the house just yet, and I'm pretty darn sure I don't want to sign a deal for e-rights only.

Not today. Not in 2010.

Why?

Because I can release it myself if I choose and keep the profit. Sure. Because I'm becoming a real sonuvabitch about creative control, too.

But what's the trade off?

Well, no "outside" editing, for one. While I'm fairly confident in my editing abilities (at least for my own stuff), I always miss something. I haven't touched The Last Days of the Springdale Saints in over a year. I'm going to give it another pass before making any final decisions.

Number two: the "stigma" of self-publishing. Yeah, well, whatever. I'm really not interested in hiding in the cave and waiting for the other dinosaurs to come home. I feel I've built a body of work I'm proud of, some of it published in nice, well-respected venues. I can write fairly well at times, at other times, my writing sucks. Hopefully I'll live long enough to spot the difference.

I don't know if I'm going to set The Last Days of the Springdale Saints free or not. I love the book as only a parent can love an oldest child. I've rewritten it a few times. I've edited it almost too many to count. It has taught me more than any of my subsequent novels. In its latest incarnation, a slim 67K, I've cut almost 30K words. The aforementioned e-publisher was the only one to see the slimmed down Saints. Maybe the book is ready.

Time will tell.

WIP Wednesday: I'm Writing. Promise.

My supposed "WIP" is a stubborn monkey.

I have managed a few thousand words since last week. I've also written two flash pieces (one for the Shock Totem competition) and started a short story. In addition, I've made progress on the chapbook front for Strange Publications. So, yeah, I'm giving the novel short shrift.

Sue me. My protag is a nasty, sarcastic teenage boy. Sue him, too.

Our resident born-again Elvis impersonator, Matthew Rexrode, sat next to Christina. He told me once I’d burn in hell for having “bad thoughts” about women. I asked him how Elvis felt about having his mojo thieved by such a total butt-nugget. Matt made collages, Jesus or a cross in every one. Think: “variations on WWJD”.

And feel free to investigate the merits of giving your work away with Scott Sigler.

The Roar of the Man Cave

Well, Jameson kicked up the Man Cave ante. Impressive spread.

My personal writing space is currently under full roar. The reason: it rained all night last night, the first genuine thunderstorm of the spring. I love those thunderstorms, but it makes the sump pump in the basement work overtime. The poor thing has been pushing water all day. And roaring.

So I'll make it quick. Check out Fifty-Two Stitches this week for a dark piece from Barry Napier. The last line is one of those that lingers.

I'm juggling three manuscripts right now: the gutting of Springdale Saints and first passes on Rock Gods and Scary Monsters and The House Eater...and, I'm actually enjoying myself. Saints is really getting carved to bits. The prose is so much leaner, meaner, and ready for action.

Cheers, all.

February Reflection (sort of)

I'm feeling a bit like spring cleaning. I received word last night (a message that was supposed to reach me in December) that The Last Days of the Springdale Saints took another hit (and that was after a full request).

This one's going down in flames kids, and I'm going to gut it like a fish. Seriously, I'm cutting half the book. I'll keep the good parts and see if I can string it back together into something meaningful.

But last night, I finished draft one of The House Eater. Yeah, it's not plural anymore. There's only one Eater...and it doesn't even consume houses, just people. And dogs, cats, toys, books, paperclips, carpet, earthworms, homework, deodorant...well, you probably get the picture. It doesn't like fire though...or siblings with telepathic abilities.

I'm going to cheat and start in on revisions immediately, at least for the first third of the book. I changed some pretty fundamental plot elements as I wrote, and I want to square them away before putting it aside for a month or so to "age".

February saw a few acceptances including one of my favorite-titled pieces, "Lullaby, Little Monster" to Champagne Shivers. This tale marks the third appearance of Pete Archer, hobo/book dealer extraordinaire. I wrote the bulk of The House Eater in February (about 30K of a current 37) and hammered out two short stories ("Dancing Lessons" and "Come Out and Play"). After fixing a little of The House Eater, I'm going to dive into the land of short stories for a couple weeks, and then start on the vivisection of Saints.

(sound effect: snapping of surgical gloves)

Let's go to work.

Nearing the End and A Request

This morning finds me nearing the end of the YA portion of my NaNoWriMo journey. I'm at 32K for Rock Gods and Scary Monsters, and need to pen the final chapter and add some bits at the beginning. How did I manage 32K already...? (um, sleep, right? I've been skipping sleep...)

Soooooo very tempted to started editing, but I know that needs to wait.

The novella that I'm going to start is tentatively called Stash. A couple of boys find some old glass jars in which they can hide things to retreive later. One of those "power corrupts" kind of stories--not to mention what else they find inside the jars. Um, the father of one of the boys has been missing for ten years? Oh, yeah...

Finally, I've received a full manuscript request for The Last Days of the Springdale Saints. Fingers crossed but I'm not holding my breath anymore. We shall see...