Hank Moody!

Hank Moody is every writer's hero. But is he for real?

It's a real Hank Moody day, let me tell you...

A real Hank Moody moment...

It must be the holidays, because yesterday I consumed ten chicken wings, a plate of greens and beans, prosecco, red wine, beer, and a shot of Jameson. This morning I am miraculously up and at 'em at my laptop, pounding out the words, even if the electrical signals from brain matter to typing fingers are a little slow. It's a real Hank Moody day, let me tell you. See what happens when you're a full-time author and you suddenly find yourself single again?

First off, Merry Xmas and Happy Holidays all around. 2017 was a stellar year for me in terms of word count, book and story publication. It was also a year where I made a sort of dramatic shift from making traditional publishing my priority with the independent side of things being a fun sideline, to quite the opposite.

I now consider the indie publishing method of primary importance. That doesn't mean I'm giving up traditional. Not at all. I'm still a hybrid. But this year I became entirely enamored not only with the freedom of indie publishing, but also the financial, passive income possibilities and the lack of industry volatility. IE: I have had two editors from traditional world either yanked from their jobs or decide to quit just prior to a book's publication, dooming the title, at least in the short term (one of these titles actually went on to sell a couple hundred thousand copies...ten years later). Such totally-out-my-control issues becomes non-issues in indie world.

My kind of Xmas!

The thing about indie, it's a matter of content. While my traditional publishers could never nor would ever take more than one book per year from me (sometimes they decide not to take any!), I can, under the guise of my own publishing label (Bear Media), publish as much material as I wish. The more the better, and my true fans are happy to have the new material as fast as I can write it (and have it edited, of course).

It's a matter of math. If one of my indie books/stories earns me $2.07 per day (sounds paltry doesn't it?), imagine what 100 will earn me, per day? This is a passive income that is entirely separate from the royalties earned on traditional agented projects. But you get the idea. The more I write, the more money I make. And what's even better, I own 100% of my rights. I also get paid once per month. Which means, in years to come, it will be my children who get paid once per month and their children, and so on. 

What I foresee in the future (in fact, it's already in the works), is all of my novels and stories being available not only in all commercial markets but also in a store at my website WWW.VINCENTZANDRI.COM where the thousands of readers and fans who subscribe to my "For Your Eyes Only" newsletter can purchase what they want, when they want it, directly. Not everyone believes in shopping at Amazon and not every Amazon customer even considers buying a book from Kobo. Not everyone wants to get in the car and go to the bookstore, that is you can still find one that hasn't become a toy store/coffee shop. But they can always come to my store, even if they're in bed, totally butt naked. It's always open. This is the eventual journey indie publishing will take us. The inevitable destination.

One of these indie projects is my Handyman series. Tagline: Would you commit murder for art's sake?  This steamy, noir thriller is as graphic as it is suspenseful. But don't take my word for it. I'm just the author. As of today, the entire first season is collected in one single handy bundle. It's called, appropriately, The Handyman: Season I...If you're into this kind of graphic romantic noir, this is totally for you:

Buy The Handyman:Season I in the US

Buy The Handyman: Season I in the UK

"Merry Christmas you old building and loan!"
WWW.VINCENTZANDRI.COM 


   

"I was born, I blinked ..."

You blink and summer, you sadly discover, has passed you by. Actually, it went by faster than a blink, which life in general seems to do, or so I'm discovering now that I'm a 51 year old guy. Time is now akin to sliding down that slippery slope. The descent isn't all that rapid, but you start thinking of things that you never thought about before (if you'll forgive the Yogi Berrasim, may God rest his soul).

For instance, you wake up one too many times at night to take a leak and what flashes through your brain is prostate cancer. There's more hair at the bottom of the shower drain these days. Gray hair. You're still exercising more than ever, but it sometimes leaves you more tired than energized, so you become a fan of afternoon naps (For the life of me, I don't know how folks with traditional jobs get through the day without a nap).

But there's a lot of good that comes with age too.

For the most part, I feel like I'm twenty-one. I eat what I want, drink what I want, go where I want, and, do what I want, within reason. I still get the high hard one up without help from chemicals, and, praise be to God, I don't think I've enjoyed a summer in recent memory where I haven't had even an ounce of women trouble.

Maybe I'm learning something in my dark middle age (it's not really all that dark. I just like the sound of that). Ten years ago this very weekend, my second wife, Laura, and I, split up. I moved out with fifty dollars in my checking account and a whole bunch of debt, and no publishing contracts to depend on. Now, ten years later, Laura and I are back together. I'm about to publish my twentieth novel in Jan. 16 (Orchard Grove, Polis Books), and I make a very good living at what I do. As for debt, I kicked it's big fat ass.

So how did I do it?

I worked hard at making some serious changes in my life that extended far beyond something as simple as quitting smoking or giving up gluten. I peered into the mirror, and I was honest with myself. Brutally honest. What I came up with is that your life is your own responsibility. No one is to blame for your plight but you. Not society, not race, not political affiliation, not your parents, not the police, not the welfare state...Not even God or the devil. You and you alone are the captain of your ship and you alone are responsible for its course.

So, yes, I have learned some things now that I'm older, the most important lesson of which is this: No matter how bad your situation is, you can change it. You can reverse anything, if you want to. Happiness isn't something you wear like a skin. It's a choice. In making the decision to be happy, you must make adjustments. Some of them difficult, like giving up a job you hate, leaving a harmful relationship, or packing up, selling your shit, and moving to a new state or country. But the changes are necessary if you are going to be happy (yes, in all the Eat, Pray, Love, sense of the word).

I'm reminded of an obituary that recently appeared in a US newspaper. It was written by the woman who was about to die, something for which I applauded her. In it, she wrote, "I was born, I blinked, and it was over." I've never forgotten those words. Nor should you. That is, you want to assume ultimate responsibility for the one life you live and its happiness.

WWW.VINCENTZANDRI.COM