So I'm taking a little advice from the great Dean Wesley Smith and challenging myself to write ten short stories and/or novelettes in ten weeks. Thus far I've managed to write two or three (already I'm losing count). But I also write for an Influencer out in L.A., so things have been pretty busy around here. Today, I didn't get much word count in on the newest novelette, The Devil Won't Have You, but I'll be back at it tomorrow.
The docs want me to have a cat scan of my lungs tomorrow in the wake of my Covid infection even though I'm asymptomatic, running three miles per day, spending an hour lifting weight, hitting the heavy bag, etc. But you know how doctors can be. If you don't have a problem, they are damn well gonna try and find one.
Speaking of Covid, I had my second shot today, so I'm that much closer to international travel. Yesterday I was a bit panicked when the state department announced a travel ban to another 135 countries. Anyone get the feeling they are building a sort of Berlin Wall around us while letting tens of thousands of undocumented people through the southern border? Something smells fishy to me.
In any case, I began to feel better about the travel situation when President Macron of France did the right thing by announcing the country would open up to vaccinated American tourists in May. I'm hoping Italy follows suit. Today some of my good friends over there confirmed that Italy would be open for the fall season. That happens, I will head to Turkey for a few weeks in September and perhaps head directly to Italy, maybe for a few months. The exact length of my stay remains to be seen, but with all the rules and restrictions still currently in place, one thing is for sure, once I get out, I'm gonna stay out for a while.
Next month, my newest and greatest full-length thriller,Paradox Lake, will be released from Oceanview Publishing in hardcover, eBook, and brilliant audio. I hope you pick it up. If you loved The Remains and The Ashes, you'll absolutely love this one too.
I'm not entirely sure where the term toxic male came from, but for sure it's a 21st century phenom. Used to be that a man who was proud of being a man was referred to as a rugged individualist. You know, like the Marlboro Man.
Hemingway fit into this category. Later on, during the turbulent 1960s, Norman Mailer, who was a Hemingway fan (he actually sent Papa a copy of his novel The Naked and the Dead, but Hemingway never responded), would espouse the fact that men and women are indeed, physiologically, emotionally, and biologically different.
He'd enter into heated debates with the likes of Gloria Steinem, while likening women's equality to that of the Civil Rights movement a la Dr. King (Not LBJ who's Great Society was a way to keep minorities on Welfare and therefore voting blue). In other words, if you wish to rise up and improve your lot in life, then by all means, do it as an individual. Prove yourself and your worth. Don't depend on any one politician or the government to do it on your behalf. No one deserves to be POTUS just because of their sex, for instance.
Bi's and Tri's day...toxic masculinity or just plain living strong...
It's a dangerous time for men. Men are accused of sexual impropriety and all too often it's the accusation that counts, not the proof or lack thereof. Men who are considered macho or ummm "toxic" are seen as a relic of an unhinged past. Men should be more feminine and less traditionally male in attitude and approach. Boys are being taught and raised this way in our schools. In a word, men should apologize for being, well, male. This is not to say there aren't some serious creepers out there who deserve their time in the gulag for what they've done. Bill Cosby, Harvey Weinstein, and Uma's ex-husband, Anthony Weiner come to mind. There are others of course.
But much like the women of this country are collectivizing for their right to do what they want with their bodies, their unborn babies, and their lives, men should not lose sight of the fact that it's okay to be a man. A strong man. I believe that deep down inside, women love strong men by their side rather than wimps. My gym, Planet Fitness, recently removed all the free weight benches from their facilities because they wish not to promote bulky, strong, men. This is, of course, as much fanatical bullshit as their refusal to broadcast FOX News on their many wall-hung televisions, choosing instead to play only the mainstream left leaning stations...CNN, MSNBC, PBS among them (the airports do this too). But then, it's their gym, they can do whatever the hell they want.
That's why I now work out mostly in my own home gym. I like pumping iron. It's not only awesome for the heart, the muscles, and the bones (especially for a middle-aged man who ain't getting any younger), but lifting free weights makes me feel strong and when I feel strong I feel like I can defend myself better, and defend anyone who I might be with at the time. As many of you already know, I was sucker punched by a total coward in a bar in Italy recently, and I swear, if not for my weight lifting regimen, I might have been seriously injured. This guy snuck up behind me, gave it everything he had, and I still walked away and enjoyed a couple drinks after. How's about them apples, coward?
Hemingway also loved to box, and on occasion he would lift weights. Mailer too loved to box and hit the weights when he could. These physical activities didn't make them toxic males, but it did make them quintessentially male. This maleness was reflected in their prose which dramatized characters who said what they meant, and meant what they said and who were willing to back it all up with their fists, if need be, even if it meant they got their ass kicked in the process. It made them rugged and it made them proud. Listen guys, there's nothing wrong with being a man's man, just like there's nothing wrong with respecting a woman and everything she stands for. We can coexist with who we are as a species, who we are as men and women, and as individuals.
As much as things are changing, and as much as the mainstream media gives one the impression that all the old chivalrous traditions are goin' bye bye, well, let me tell you something, over the course of the past year or so I've been on at least a dozen dates, and in almost every case, I paid the bill. Gladly paid the bill, I should say. I also held open the Jeep door for my dates. Because that's the way it should be. I was acting like a man, a proud strong man, and there was nothing toxic about it.
The first line in my novel, Moonlight Falls, still causes chills to run up and down my spine. I was in quite the state when I wrote it. The second marriage was crumbling, the bank account was in the red, my original Big 5 publisher wasn't about to roll out a third book for me now that I hadn't earned out a mid-six-figure advance, I had no freelance prospects, and my dog died. Okay, well I'm fibbing about the dog, but things were pretty bleak to to say the least. So much so, that not even the worst country music ballad could do it justice.
How does the line go in the famous Wilco song? I shiver whenever the doorbell rings. Or something like that. And yeah, I must admit, there were times I thought, you know what, why not just check out now and beat the reaper at his own game. But then, even the next cheeseburger is worth waiting for. Especially if the cheese is sharp cheddar and you're washing it down with an ice cold beer.
But it was in this state of mind that I began Moonlight Falls, with those first seven words. Because in a real way, my life was flashing before my eyes. I knew that I had no choice but to write my way out of my depression. That a creative mind had no other choice. That is, it wanted to survive.
I can still recall sitting across from Suzanne Gluck's big glass desk inside her glitzy William Morris Agency office in Manhattan, while she read the manuscript one page at a time, a pair of brass knuckles set out on the desktop, and her rather attractive assistant bringing her a bagel (no cream cheese). Gluck was, is, arguably, the best literary agent in the world. And that is no exaggeration. She took a special interest in Moonlight Falls and I was convinced at the time that all my problems were solved. But it was not to be. In the end, that big ass advance I hadn't earned out at Delacorte plagued me like a bad shadow and even she couldn't sell it. I had no choice but to go with a small publisher.
Said small publisher treated me very kindly, but as time went on and the manuscript was whipped into someone else's editorial vision, it sort of lost it's original gritty vision in order to become more attractive to a wider audience. But only now, nearly ten years after I first started writing it, is my original vision of the manuscript available for both new readers and Zandri completests. It's hard-boiled, it's noir, it's romantic suspense, it's raw, it's sexy, it's bad ass, and yeah, it's as close to the original version Ms. Gluck read inside her office with me staring at her, wondering if she was single (she wasn't).
Boxed sets that contain a few novels and hundreds of thousands of words seem to be all the rage these days. So I decided to jump into the deep end and put out my first boxed collection of Two Novels and a Novella that will Keep You on the Edge of Your Seat. At least, that's supposed to be the point of PULP!
The collection contains:
1. Moonlight Sonata (A Dick Moonlight PI Thriller)
2. The Shroud Key (A Chase Baker Thriller)
3. Full Moonlight (A Dick Moonlight PI Novella)
So without further verbal bloodletting, here's where you can get yours for your Kindle: Pulp!
I'm pricing it at .99 for a limited time so I hope you take advantage. And don't forget to Join Up with the Vincent Zandri "For Your Eyes Only" Newsletter at WWW.VINCENTZANDRI.COM
What had started out as a stellar literary career of writing
crime novels for a Random House imprint to the tune of 200K a pop in advance money,
went south due to a corporate merger. I had published two books that were going
nowhere and, at the same time, gotten involved in a ghost writing project that,
while sending me around the world on a fact finding mission on the client’s
dime, nearly drove me towards a nervous breakdown when it came time for the
actual writing. Imagine writing for someone who is constantly telling you, “You
can’t write that piece of dialogue. My friend George Bush won’t like it.”
That’s the kind of vice tightening madness I was up against.
I was broke from a protracted divorce, without a home I
could call my own, no money in the bank, considerable debt, no book contracts,
no work, nothing. I had recently remarried and it was not going well. Instead
of being a good and decent husband, I spent most of my nights staying up until
the wee hours, stressing, plotting, but mostly just feeling sorry for myself.
Things got so bad, my wife asked me to move out. I loved her more than any
woman in the world. And because I loved her, I did what she asked of me. I
moved out.
A couple of months later I woke on a cold Christmas morning.
The kids were already up, but I decided I didn’t want to have a Christmas that
year. So I stayed in bed until everyone had opened their gifts. When I finally
emerged from my bedroom sometime that late afternoon, I went immediately to the
refrigerator and cracked open a beer. I also lit up a cigarette. I stood there
at the sink, staring at the beer and the blue smoke rising up from the
cigarette. I knew I had reached a pivotal moment in my life. I could either
slide down that slippery slope towards certain protracted death. Or, I could
somehow make the effort to get my life back together.
I’m not sure what came over me at that very moment in time,
but I put out the cigarette and dumped the beer. I apologized to my family over
missing Christmas and then I put on my running clothes and went for a long jog
on that cold December afternoon.
The next day I went back to work. Since it was going to be a
while until I could manage another book contract, I went back to the beginning,
so to speak. I went back to the same kind of freelance journalism and freelance
writing that had originally sustained me back when I was just starting out. It
took some time, but I eventually scored gigs with some global publications. I
worked so hard at it day in and day out, that within the year I was working for
RT, Russia’s English speaking 24 hour global satellite news network. I found
myself writing news pieces, professional blogs and photographing in places like
West Africa, Moscow, Italy, Paris and other destinations. I also secured some
much needed bread and butter work with some trade journals that specialized in
architecture, building, and design. Suddenly, I was paying my rent and putting
some money away. I’d even managed to pay up most of my debt. Not bad
considering when I moved out of my house my wife loaned me fifty bucks in order
to start a checking account.
I wasn’t only writing journalism at the time. I was also
stealing an hour or so a day to work on the new novel that would become
Moonlight Falls. To my surprise, an agent willingly took it on, and while I was
still more or less blackballed by the majors for having not earned out my original
$250K advance, she secured a contract with a small publisher. I couldn’t have
been happier. I was not only back as a professional writer and journalist, I
had a new book coming out.
I was so encouraged by my humble but serious success that I
started taking even more time out to write fiction. That next year I wrote The
Remains, The Concrete Pearl, and then Moonlight Rises. Those got picked up by
one of the hottest indie publishers in the business. In the meantime, my agent
managed to re-acquire the rights to my Random House books, The Innocent and Godchild.
My new publisher agreed to republish them also. By the fourth year of my career
rebuilding and re-commitment to excellence, I had sold more than one-hundred
thousand copies of The Innocent and nearly the same for Godchild. The Remains
would go on to sell at least as many. Almost all of these sales were e-book
sales, which meant the books would never go out of print. In the end, I sold so
many books I would have earned out my Random House advance.
Enter year six. With my new sales record and the income that
was coming in along with it, I found myself with a new agent. That agent was able
to repackage Vincent Zandri and acquire an eight book, “very nice deal” with
arguably the hottest and potentially most powerful new major publisher on the
block: Thomas & Mercer of Amazon Publishing. I had come full circle.
It took six full years to overcome the hump, or slump if you
will, that began with a simple corporate restructuring. No matter what you call
it, it still resulted in my having been served a crap sandwich. But there’s a
major lesson to be learned here. As bad and personally directed as it all
seemed at the time, my situation wasn’t unique. This business is fraught with
disappointments and stumbling blocks too numerous to mention here. It’s not a matter
of avoiding them since you can’t possibly avoid them all, but a matter of
positioning yourself so that you can deal with them without having to take too
many steps backwards.
Sure I have the major deal again but unlike the last time, I
have set myself up so that I am never without a writing income, should one of
my sources go south. How can you do the same?
--Don’t put all of your eggs in one basket. If you’re a
journalist and/or freelance writer, try and maintain a client or two, even if
your books are making you a nice living. The money will be welcome, and it will
keep your journalism skills sharp.
--Don’t rely on one method of publishing. Acquire major,
traditionally-based independent, and self publishing contracts. This is an ever
changing business and what seems like an awesome major contract today can
become a real dog tomorrow.
--Ally yourself with a very good agent. He or she will
secure you work should you need it. And of course, they will sell your movie,
TV, and foreign rights.
--Take care of yourself. I still like to drink beer and
wine, but I never again touched another cigarette after that one dreadful Christmas
day nearly seven years ago now. I run and lift on a daily basis and I love to
cook good food.
--Travel. See the world and write about it. This will
re-energize the batteries and give you a global perspective, the least of which
is this: the world and the universe does not revolve around you.
--If you’re in bad relationship that prohibits your making a
success of yourself as a writer, get out of it. My second wife saw the
destructiveness of our relationship and she made the difficult decision to end
it while we still had love for one another and even a friendship. Today, I have
my life back together and we are once more a couple. But this relationship is
so different from what we had before, that she seems like an entirely new woman
to me. And as for me, I’m an entirely new man. I’ve learned from my mistakes
and turned a disaster into a success. More importantly, I’ve grown up. And in
doing so, I survived the slump.
Swallow the red pill and discover how deep the rabbit hole goes.
It's the moment I've been waiting for, for nearly ten years now.
The moment 5 of my my in-print books and 3 brand new books get republished with a really big house that knows how to sell books (and that's saying it rather lightly). It's the moment I've worked for since my split with Random House. The moment I've honed and sharpened in my mind with each book I wrote and each publication that rose up the charts with some really great small presses and indie publishers like my brothers and sisters at StoneHouse/StoneGate Ink.
I've put up with empty bank accounts, broken relationships, too many sleepless nights, ugly book signings, and at times a hopelessness and an anxiety so profound it was crippling. But then I've also had the great fortune of having enjoyed a creative well that is at present 7 years deep and doesn't show any signs of drying up.
I've enjoyed some nice relationships, met a bunch of new friends, traveled to some distant and exotic lands both as a journalist and novelist, and even been blessed with being reunited with the same woman who inspired me all those years ago. I've seen my bank account refill and I've watched my books go from selling hundreds per year to selling hundreds of thousands.
Next year at this time, I will have sold more than a million copies of my in-print hard-boiled novels. That to me is mind boggling, but a reality nonetheless. A new kind of surreality.
So life has changed for me. And now, in this hinterland between past and future, I await a brand new life filled with publishing possibilities and creative works I never would have dreamed up a dozen years ago when I signed my first major contract. I no longer think on a local level. I think globally and I write for a global audience. My books will never go out of print. The antiquated system of returns means nothing to me now that my novels are being published not only in paper, but ebook and audio.
It's a new world I'm about to enter into. I've swallowed the red pill, and I'm passing through a new doorway that will show me where the rabbit hole goes.
Listen up on September 4th 2012 when the long pause becomes the big bang!
What's your worst nightmare?
Is it being all alone, hopelessly lost in a dark and cold place?
Maybe it's snakes crawling all over you?
Maybe it's being hunted down by a psychotic killer in the deep woods. A devil. A demon.
Or perhaps, just perhaps, you are afraid of the demons that reside inside your head.
If you are afraid of all these things, then you know exactly what it is to be Jude Parish,
former violent crimes detective turned bestselling true crime author.
Jude is being hunted by a video game designer who is also a serial killer.
And before the hunter finishes the violent game of cat and mouse he starts with the entire Parish family in the deep, unrelenting Adirondack woods of Lake George, New York, he will catch their screams.
SCREAM CATCHER: The New Psychological Suspense Thriller from the No. 1 International Bestselling Amazon Kindle Author, Vincent Zandri.
"Hey barkeep, give me another and make it a double. I just read another Zandri novel."
It's amazing how small the world is becoming, and how with the advent of social media and digital publishing, like-minded people (oh shit, I mean "Peeps" in the vernacular of the historical present) are now able to gravitate together to form a kind of family. Noir author and hard-boiled writer Paul Brazil is a member of my family or tribe, even though I have never met him in the flesh and he is an Englishman who lives in Poland. He is a brother/sibling, along with the likes of Heath Lowrance from Detroit (actually, I think it's possible that Heath and Paul are the same man, but I have no way of verifying this), Les Edgerton from Indiana, Ben Sobieck from Wisconsin, Enzo Body Cold and Alessandra Bucheri from Rome (Ok, I've had the pleasure of meeting the latter two this past Spring), and so many more.
Paul has been responsible for putting together some great collections of short hard-boiled fiction, not the least of which is the popular Drunk on the Moon series and Brit Grit. He is an award winning novelist and short story writer and just an all around great noir afficianado and dude knows way more about the dark world I try to inhabit everyday through my little books and stories than I ever will know. Today he speaks to us about TV. Gritty crime dramas coming at you from both sides of the big drink (Atlantic Ocean, that is). Admittely, I haven't seen any of them since I rarely do TV, but now that I've read the blog that follows I am going to make a point of taking a peak. Who knows, I might actually find something here that's as good as the old Rockford Files series. It's got to be good of Paul Brazill recommends it.
Guest
Blog: U S Grit – In Praise Of Southland
by
Paul D. Brazill
There’s been a lot of talk about Brit Grit recently- usually from me - and, more specifically, Brit Grit television - edgy, realistic
crime drama such as Cracker, Gangsters and Luther.
The US has also been deservedly praised for producing great
crime shows like The Wire and Breaking Bad, of course.
But one show that I think is due more praise and
attention is surely TNT’sSouthland – a cinema verite look at the
rough and tumble lives of a group of LAPD police officers that was created by Emmy Award winning AnneBiderman.
I’ll admit that I only discovered Southland quite recently. I’m a fan of the film director Allison Anders, so I sought out a
couple of the shows that she directed.
And it was great, raw, fast paced – and yes, gritty -stuff.
Despite a slightly cheesy voice over at the start, as in other sharp American
crime shows – like Justified - there
was more of human life packed in one breathless 40 minute episode than most series.
But like most great television, you need to see more than
the occasional episode. You need to get into it. To let it ferment.
And of late I was lucky enough to see all ofSouthland Season Four. And beaut stuff
it was too.
Heart in the mouth tension. Realistic characters and situations.
Sharp dialogue. Great performances – particularly from Michael Cudlitz, Regina
King and C. Thomas Howell. Lucy Liu even guested and showed herself to be a
cracking character actor.
So, if you want a short, sharp shock of US Grit, check
out Southland. You won’t be disappointed.
Bio: I was
born in England and now live in Poland. I started writing flash fiction and short stories at the end
of 2008.
I've since had bits and bobs published in
various magazines and anthologies, includingCrimeFactory,
Burning Bridges, Action, Beat To A Pulp, Needle, A Twist Of Noir, RadgepacketandThe
Mammoth Book Of Best British Crime 8.
I've also had two short but perfectly formed
collections published -13 Shots Of Noir(Untreed
Reads) and Snapshots(Pulp Metal
Fiction).
Oh, and I've edited two anthologies
- True Brit Grit – with Luca Veste -(Guilty Conscience) andDrunk
On The Moon(Dark
Valentine Press). Times.
"I'm writing full-time now...and no one can stop me..."
If you're going to try, go all the way.
Maybe you're a novelist working exclusively with the Amazon KDP self-publishing program and what started out as just a kind of curious, let's-see-what-happens thing turned into, I'm-making-enough-in-royalties-now-to-pay-the-mortgage-and-all-my-bills kind of thing.
Or maybe you're like me, a novelist and journalist who stresses the importance of utilizing not just one method of publication, but all three: Major, traditionally-based indie, and self-publishing.
Whatever the case, you've gone from obscure nobody to enjoying a profitable fan base in a relatively short amount of time. Now you find yourself getting up in the morning, getting dressed and hustling off to work, and all the time there's this voice inside your head saying, "Quit the day job. You don't need it anymore."
But will the royalties keep on coming?
Will your desire and ability to write good novels last?
Will changes in an ever volatile e-book market affect your sales?
Or have you simply gotten really lucky over the past couple of years and now the luck is about to run out?
The answer is yes and no.
The only guarantee for a the full-time writer is that there are no guarantees.
So what are you going to do? Are you going to play it safe and keep the day job? Or is that letter of resignation already locked and loaded in your email, your index finger tickling the Enter key. Your finger on the trigger...
My sons play video games.
Ok, that's an understatement. Not only do my sons (Jack 21 and Bear 17) play video games, they own literally thousands of them. They also own every gaming system available, both TV adaptable and hand-held, and they collect retro systems from the '00s, 90's 80's and even an Atari "Pong" system from the 1970s. The games they purchase and play often arrive to our home in strange packages wrapped in brown butcher paper, postmarked Japan or South Korea and even China. These games will be designed and presented entirely in an Asian language that somehow my sons understand.
The games they play range from G-rated to Mature to Violent with names that have become entirely familiar in and around video gaming circles: Final Fantasy, Mario, Tekken, Street Fighter, and lots more,
The gaming doesn't stop there.
As many gamers do, my sons are also into the tangental aspects of gaming like graphic novels, video anime, feature length straight-to-video movies, and more. They also maintain a special allure for Bruce Lee, who's early Kung Foo movies curiously follow a video-game-like plot-line of "level's" of battle or fighting, despite their predating practical video game development by a decade or more.
Lately my boys have been designing their own video games starting with humble miniature games in order to educate themselves to the complications and nuances of the art. One day they hope to make their mark on the industry with big games that will be distributed throughout the world.
I grew up with video games which back then in my early teens, were mostly located in video game parlors. Back when you could find records in record stores and books in bookstores. Nowadays it's getting harder and harder to find a video game parlor since just about every household owns some kind of video game system like a Uii or a PlayStation. Certainly just about everyone has access to the Internet. But I never really got into them since I more or less knew that once I was hooked, I would forever be dedicating half my life to sitting in front of a whole bunch of computer generated pixels.
But video games still fascinate me. Especially the ones gamers refer to as "Kill Games."
These first person kill games put you the player in the position of the chaser while you hunt down a series of victims which more often than not assume the form of Zombies (that way they can't ever really be killed). But there are other kill games in which you hunt enemy soldiers or bandits or rednecks driving fast cars. I was curious about what goes into the design of these games and designers who might become so obsessed with making them so realistic and life-like they might go to extraordinary lengths to create them. Like murder for instance. So fascinated in fact, that I decided to wrap a stand-alone thriller around the idea.
The plot I had in mind was not just a simple murder. But an elaborate hunt and chase which would culminate in a murder upon which the chaser would record the victim's screams prior to perishing. The screams would then be used in the design of a Violent First Person video game that would closely resemble the actual hunt and chase that inspired it. That in mind I created a video game designer who is a master of disguise and a serial killer. A man who never stays in the same city for very long and who operates under as many different aliases as he's had facial reconstruction and voice enhancement surgeries. He is a man who will stop at nothing to observe how another human being reacts to a hunt and chase, and he's determined to translate the experience for the video game as accurately as possible.
Even though my sons were able to provide me with almost all the research material I needed for the novel (minus the murder part!) it still took me almost three full years to write the psychological/suspense/horror thriller, SCREAM CATCHER. It's now coming at you in e-Book, trade paper and in a matter of a few weeks, audio, screams and all. It's my contribution to an entertainment genre that has not only fascinated me for a long time, but become an art form unto itself and a way of life for my sons. And even, a living.
Chris Redding is a writer with a bucket list. But then, who doesn't have a bucket list? It seems I spend half my life in the air on the way to one foreign destination or another while dreaming about going to yet another destination even before I've landed in the first destination. Am I making sense here? Well, the talented author of "A View to a Kilt" (Get it?) certainly does. I owe her big time for picking up the slack at the Vox while I try and catch up from half a summer in Italy and while writing the first draft of my new Moonlight thriller, Blue Moonlight.
Time for you to fly, Chris:
Bucket ListChris ReddingWhen I was younger I never thought about a bucket list. Oh I had things I wanted to see. And because I spent the first few years of my marriage following my husband’s career around the world, I did see many things.I saw the Mediterranean Sea. That body of water was as beautiful as I expected it would be. There I was in the south of France on a gorgeous day. The next morning we had croissants so buttery that when you bit into them, the butter ran down your hands. Ah.One of the things I wanted to do was fly on the Concorde. My DH and I shared this dream, but alas, we had children instead of saving up for it. On July 25, 2000, Air France Flight 4590 took off while on fire and later crashed killing all 100 passengers, the crew and four people on the ground. This was the beginning of the end for the Concorde and it is unlikely we will ever see supersonic air travel in my lifetime.Why am I talking about this now?I recently went to the newly refurbished Intrepid, Sea, Air and Space Museum. For those who don’t know what this is, the Intrepid is an aircraft carrier that was originally used during World War 2. It was decommissioned in the 1970’s and later brought to New York City as a museum.You are tapping your foot. I see it. What does an aircraft carrier have to do with supersonic air travel?This museum complex was recently refurbished and now, on its deck, is a Concorde. (There were 20 made.)And I got to sit in it. No flying. No world class service, but I did get to sit in a seat and in the cockpit. And it was worth every penny I paid. Especially because I learned some interesting facts.I’m sure I will use them in a book.The Concorde was built by the British and French which is a feat in itself. After the accident, the planes were grounded until an investigation could ensue. When ii finished the British decided to bring the Concorde back into the limelight with a publicity tour. They planned on flying celebrities and other important people around Britain. Sadly they picked September 11, 2001 as their date. After that date, air travel was reduced. Companies didn’t want to pay for flying and at the same time computer and internet technologies made it easier for companies to do business with each other without flying. And the price of fuel had gone up. All these contributed to the demise of the Concorde. For me a sad day.But now I have had at least sat in one and dreamed about what it would be like to see the curvature of the earth from an airplane. Thanks for having me today, Vincent.A View to a Kilt excerpt:The trip downtown took ten minutes in the midmorning traffic. Miriam shivered at the cool breeze snaking across the parking lot of the Philadelphia Police Administration building at Fifth and Race Streets. She wasn’t dressed for the fall weather. Pulling her coat tighter around herself did nothing for her exposed legs. The chill percolated to her bones.Would she ever be warm again?Donner left her in an interrogation room and went to get coffee. The room, painted in a subdued green, had what Miriam presumed to be a two-way mirror on one wall. A tape recorder for her statement sat on the table. She couldn’t seem to stop shivering despite rubbing her hands up and down her arms. Standing, she began to pace. A urine smell wrinkled her nose. She jammed a lock of blonde hair behind her ear and caught a look at herself in the mirror.“Bedhead, big time,” she said to her reflection. Her crumpled dress added to the picture. She admitted she looked as if she could kill someone. Even her hot pink, sheath dress looked odd on her. How she looked was the least of her worries now. Doubling in pain, new tears streamed down her face. “Oh God, Joe. What were you into since I last saw you?”Chris Redding lives in New Jersey with her husband, two kids, one dog and three rabbits. She graduated from Penn State with a degree in journalism. When she isn’t writing, she works part time for her local hospital. Her latest book is A View to a Kilt.
THIS IS HOW YOUR LIFE ENDS: NOT WITH A WHIMPER, BUT A SCREAM!
My first stand-alone thriller in the Stephen King tradition since the bestselling THE REMAINS: SCREAM CATCHER is now released by StonGate Ink in all E-Book formats...
This is how your life ends: Not with a whimper, but a scream!
Jude Parish is afraid. The former violent crimes cop turned bestselling true crime author has a fear-filled demon lodged inside of him. A demon so real he can only imagine a slimy reptilian beast with scaly skin, black eyes, and razor-sharp fangs having taken up residence inside the place where his once confident and fearless soul resided.
Now, in the wake of his literary success, the ever anxious Jude is hoping to lead a quiet, peaceful life in the idyllic Adirondack vacation town of Lake George, New York with his new pregnant wife, Rosie, and Jack, his young son from a previous marriage. But when Jude becomes the accidental witness to a bizarre “kill game” in which the killer, video game designer and master of disguise, Hector “the Black Dragon” Lennox, insists on recording the screams of his victims prior to shooting them dead, the ex-cop’s life is turned upside down.
When Lennox is arrested by the L.G.P.D. and Jude is asked to act as the state’s “star witness,” he has no choice but to fight his demon-fear and take on the role. But what he doesn’t realize at the time, is that the killer’s arrest is actually the first level in what is a carefully designed and scripted first-person video kill game that will involve his entire family as “players” and “victims.”
How will the kill game end?
Like all violent video games, it will end in death. But it won’t be “Game Over” until Hector Lennox catches the screams of his tortured victims.
“If you want a novel that runs wild like a caged beast let loose, Zandri is the man.”
—(Albany)
“Sensational…masterful…brilliant.”
—New York Post
“Probably the most arresting first crime novel to break into print this season.”
—Boston Herald
“A thriller that has depth and substance, wickedness and compassion.”
—The Times-Union (Albany)
“Vincent Zandri explodes onto the scene with the debut thriller of the year. As Catch Can is gritty, fast-paced, lyrical and haunting. Don’t miss it.”
—Harlan Coben, author of The Final Detail
The second full-length novel in the continuing Richard "Dick" Moonlight series by Vincent Zandri has been released by StoneGate Ink in Kindle, Nook, and all e-Book forums, available via your Tattered Cover and other retailers. Private eye Dick Moonlight is really dead this time, see. Three thugs in black wearing Obama-masks and communicating with hand-held voice synthesizers pressed against their voice boxes appeared from nowhere and beat him to death in a dark alley in downtown Albany, NY. But why? And forwhat reason! They demanded a mysterious box, see, of unknown proportions the likes of which he’s never heard about. WHAT box?!! They insist he cut all ties with his latest client: a disabled nuclear engineer of Russian heritage by the same of Peter Czech. Is he really from Ruissia? Moonlight can’t be sure, see. It hardly matters, now that he’s dead. Private Eye Dick Moonlight has a blissful out of body experience, his soul floating above his ruined mess of a body inside the Albany Medical Center I.C.U. whereon his one true love, Lola, is standing by his bedside, see.
But then something happens, see. Something bad. This young punk rambles into the I.C.U, see, he takes Lola’s hand, and draws her into a loving embrace over the limp Dick Moonlight. What seemed at first like a sweet peaceful death now causes Moonlight to struggle to reenter his body so he can stare down Some Young Guy and avenge himself, see. The pain of his battery is worsened by the pain of his breaking heart. Even so, as a hardened private dick, Moonlight wants to find out the true identity of those thugs who killed him, see, and decides his bruised and broken body is the perfect place to lay low for a while and pick up information. Yeah, see. Surely he’s not really dead, given the title. Does he come back to life? Will he spring into action, clubbing down attackers with balled fists? And what about those crazy masks? Is this is a political book? Hah. Life sucks, then you die. But Moonlight Rises
To read original review: http://www.examiner.com/books-in-denver/book-review-moonlight-rises-by-vincent-zandri-review
To grab Moonlight Rises: http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B005HB16Y6/ref=nosim/theplanningsh-20
It's been ten years since the publication of my first major thriller, As Catch Can. Back then it was called, The Innocent, but the publisher decided to change the title at the last minute since a sister publisher had an author with the same title, and the editor was very afraid the Bertlesman boys might leave a severed horse head in his bed one night if he were to put out a novel with the same title. So it was changed to As Catch Can.
Now, I'm not complaining. I actually like the title, for a jazz standard. But for a book, it's a tough one to remember. That is, unless you add the "Catch" to it, as in "Catch As Catch Can," which is most definitely not the title. When asked the title of my new novel and I'd respond, "As Catch Can, most people would peer at me quizically, and with upturned brows respond, "Say what?"
So now here we are ten years later. As Catch Can which received awesome reviews from the New York Post, The Boston Herold, etc. and authors like Harlan Coben (see below) and was translated into several languages, was quickly pulled off the B&N front shelves after 6 weeks to make room for something else. That's how the big monster bookstores work (what a joy it will be to see them crash and burn!) It also was remaindered within a years and half of its original pub date. In other words, dear reader, it was never given a chance (and here the pub was cutting checks for a quarter of a million bucks for me. You explain the logic!)
Now, with the advent of the new indy publishing, EBooks, Kindle and the new digital age and my new awesome publishers, StoneHouse Ink and StoneGate Ink, As Catch Can or, The Innocent, is alive and well again, and destined to become a bestseller. Some fans still think of it as my best book. Even DreamWorks thought so when they gave it three reads in anticipation of purchasing the movie rights. Too bad my agent at the time was on crack and busy writing his own novel and negotiating his own deals with Holywood.
Ok, time to let go of the past and embrace the now and the present. I hope you dig The Innocent as much as I dug writing it!!!!
It's been a year since Jack Marconi's wife was killed. Ever since, he's been slipping up at his job as warden at an upstate New York prison. It makes him the perfect patsy when a cop-killer breaks out--with the help of someone on the inside. Throwing himself into the hunt for the fleeing con, Jack doesn't see what's coming.
Suddenly the walls are closing in. And in the next twenty-four hours, Jack will defy direct orders, tamper with evidence, kidnap the con's girlfriend--and run from the law with a .45 hidden beneath his sports coat. Because Jack Marconi, keeper of laws, men, secrets, and memories, has been set up--by a conspiracy that has turned everyone he ever trusted into an enemy. And everything he ever believed in into the worst kind of lie.
Reviews for "The Innocent" (formally, As Catch Can)
"If you want a novel that runs wild like a caged beast let loose, Zandri is the man." --(Albany)
"Sensational...masterful...brilliant." --New York Post
"Probably the most arresting first crime novel to break into print this season." --Boston Herald
"A thriller that has depth and substance, wickedness and compassion." --The Times-Union (Albany)
"Vincent Zandri explodes onto the scene with the debut thriller of the year. As Catch Can is gritty, fast-paced, lyrical and haunting. Don't miss it." --Harlan Coben, author of The Final Detail
"A Satisfying Yarn." --Chicago Tribune "Compelling...As Catch Can pulls you in with rat-a-tat prose, kinetic pacing...characters are authentic, and the punchy dialogue rings true. Zandri's staccato prose moves As Catch Can at a steady, suspenseful pace." --Fort Lauderdale Sun-Sentinel
"Exciting...An Engrossing Thriller...the descriptions of life behind bars will stand your hair on end." --Rocky Mountain News
"Readers will be held captive by prose that pounds as steadily as an elevated pulse... Vincent Zandri nails readers' attention." --Boston Herald
"A smoking gun of a debut novel. The rough and tumble pages turn quicker than men turn on each other." --Albany Times-Union
Please turn the page for more extraordinary acclaim...
"The story line is non-stop action and the flashback to Attica is eerily brilliant. If this debut is any indication of his work, readers will demand a lifetime sentence of novels by Vincent Zandri." --I Love a Mystery
"A tough-minded, involving novel...Zandri writes strong prose that rarely strains for effect, and some of his scenes...achieve a powerful hallucinatory horror." --Publishers Weekly
"A classic detective tale." --The Record (Troy, NY)
"[Zandri] demonstrates an uncanny knack for exposition, introducing new characters and narrative possibilities with the confidence of an old pro....Zandri does a superb job creating interlocking puzzle pieces." --San Diego Union-Tribune
"This is a tough, stylish, heartbreaking car accident of a book: You don't want to look but you can't look away. Zandri's a terrific writer and he tells a terrific story." --Don Winslow, author of The Death and Life of Bobby Z
"Papa, when he was about my age. Taking a break from writing in Paris during the big war against Nazi aggression."
Do any of you writers feel a cold droplet of sweat run down the spine of your back when you complete a big a draft of a new novel? I know I do. I'll be a sad son of bitch but I just can't I explain it, other than I must be a little bit warped in the head. or so my ex-wives remind me on a daily basis.
Shouldn't the completion of a new book send me seeking out my cell phone to call my travel agent? Come to think of it, I just did that. But what I mean is, shouldn't I be looking forward to relaxing a little? You know, sleeping in a little, having a couple drinks? Take in some fishing? A movie or two? A couple of nice dinners out with my girlfriend? A trip to somewhere exotic?
I guess it all has to do with the "what now" syndrome. Like Hemingway once said, in this writing business chuck full of highly critical academic jerks, you're never judged on what you have done, but always what you are doing.
Therefore, while I have a long rewrite to look forward to on my new project The Dead Souls, I am now scrambling to work on something else first. The lucky winner will probably be the second in the, Dick Moonlight, Moonlight Falls, series, or Moonlight Rises.
Hey, I shouldn't be complaining. My new books, like The Remains, are bestsellers. I've just signed two new contracts for two more books with my new publisher. Plus I now have a movie scout. I remember when, not too long ago, I used to complete a novel and wait for the onslaught of the "big quiet."There was no money coming in and my wife use to hang me in effigy out on the front lawn (Course now that I'm just a tad more successful she's been on-again/off-again hinting about a reconciliation. I wonder how her boyfriend feels about that!).
Times have changed. I make my living as a full-time writer. But one thing hasn't changed. I want to always be working on something. Writing is who I am and what I'm all about as a human being. Some people might think this wrong. That I should be a father, a husband, a citizen, or what have you first. But I choose to be a writer first. I can't imagine myself living any other way.
Not sure what it is about Sunday mornings that make people, or me anyway, reflect. Of course, I'm always thinking about what I have yet to accomplish and what I've already managed to accomplish, however successful or otherwise. But on Sunday mornings the whole process is that much more pronounced and in your face.
Some people go to church and think a lot there, and others like me go for a long run and hit the gym and in many ways that's like going to church. Still others just lie in bed and dread the coming week. I thank God I'm not included in the latter category.
This morning, while I sip coffee on the stone terrace outside my apartment, I thank God that I have a new publisher, a couple of new books that are doing great, new books in the works, old books being republished, new trips to look forward too, new friends to make, healthy kids and parents, my own health, and even now at 46, lots of hopes and dreams and goals.
I'm also grateful to the many fans and readers who have bought my books (especially The Remains which has been an Amazon bestseller and Hot New Release for weeks and weeks...) and gracefully, not to mention patiently, put up with my rather aggressive online marketing approach. I owe you guys my life and I won't forget that you deserve the best writing I can produce. Anything less than that would be like cheating on your spouse.
So, I'm about to go for a run, and soak in the sun on this beautiful Sunday in upstate New York. And once again to my readers:
Maybe it's because me and the boys watched The Godfather last evening that this morning I'm thinking movies. It might also be because yesterday afternoon my agent called to tell me she's presently packaging my newest bestselling thriller, The Remains, into a major motion picture prospect (details should be posted on Publishers Marketplace soon, or so I'm told).
I've been down the movie route more than a few times, only to have had my foot just about through the door when said door slammed me in the face. My novel As Catch Can, had three back-to-back reads from DreamWorks, and looked like a sure sale, but in the end, the firm decided to punt. My other novels enjoy similar Hollywood success. But Hollywood is a funny place and an even funnier business and I never look at reads and interest other than with a huge bag of salt.
Sometimes however, I feel a kinship with Vito Corleone's Godson, the crooner dude with the good looks and the "olive oil" voice. If only there were a Godfather I could seek council with, ask him to help me score a Tinseltown buyer for my new book. Maybe all it would take is a few phone calls and perhaps a face-to-face with a producer on behalf of his counciliary, and just like that, I'd be the newest Hollywood sensation. Or, if the producer refuses to buy, he might just wake up with a bloody horse head in his bed.
Ok, back to reality.
My guess is that sooner or later I will have one of my books produced into a film. Not to blow my own horn but The Remains would indeed make a great movie. It boasts all the essential plot elements: strong female lead, pile driving tension, strong evil antagonist, feel-good-lovable supporting role in the form of an autistic savant painter turned hero, a great story, and much more. Good title too.
Like all novelists I often get the question: who do you see playing he roles of your characters in the movie? Just last evening I got this question from a fan who was having a beer in a bar in Cape Cod (he was also kind enough to buy me a beer...Oh the perks of being a writer!).
Ok, so here goes: here's who I picture starring in the movie version of The Remains (forgive me if I spell any of these names wrong. I never read People Magazine!:
--Angelina Jolie starring as Rebecca Underhill --George Cloony starring at Michael Hoffman --Danny Devito starring as Francis Scaramuzzi --Robert Deniro starring as Joseph William Whalen
Ok, you sorta gotta kinda read the book to know what I'm talking about. But just giving you a visual sense of who might be look good in these roles might afford you some idea of what the book is all about.
Anyway, for all you producers out there who are considering taking a look into a good book by an Italian American author, I hope you think about perhaps optioning the novel. If not, then I'd better be going. Mr. Corleone prefers to receive bad news right away.
