You Must Write!

Heinlein's Rules for Writing No. 1: You must write. Sound obvious doesn't it?

Writing in the Darkness!

Sometimes all you need to write a story is just a title.

Fiction Gets Tokenized? The World's First Hardboiled Short Story Offered as an NFT

 

I've been following the crypto space for a while now. Or more precisely, since 2017. I've been dollar cost averaging Bitcoin and other currencies since that time. On occasion I would attempt to make a trade but I would almost always lose money doing it (just ask my accountant if you don't believe me). Like writing, some people just have the gift for trading and others should stick to their day jobs. 

More recently, I'd heard about NFTs or what's also known as Non-Fungible Tokens. I have no idea where this name comes from and what it means to "funge" something, but it sounds vaguely dirty to me. But anyway, I digress. According to Investorplace.com, the new crypto-like investments have taken the world by storm, turning digital works of art and other collectibles like photos of NBA players dunking a basketball, into tradable items available only on the digital blockchain. 

And get this, some of these pieces of digital art are going for hundreds of thousands of dollars. Some have sold in the millions. Why? Like Bitcoin's attractive nature, there's only so much of the digital asset to go around. In the case of NFTs, what you get is a one-of-a-kind piece of art. Think of it as purchasing brand new Picasso online as a digital property. That is, he were still alive. 

But NFTs, it turns out, aren't just limited to digital art and photos. Just a couple of weeks ago, the rock band Kings of Leon, offered up their latest album as an NFT. Now that's what got me to thinking, if you can sell digital art as an NFT, and if you can sell a basketball player crushing a dunk as an NFT, and you can sell an album of rock music as an NFT, why then can't I sell a piece of one-of-a-kind short, hardboiled fiction as an NFT? 

So that's exactly what I've done. I've set up an account with the NFT trading portal OpenSea, and offered my flash-fiction short, Suicide by Cop, as an NFT. This is a move that is entirely counter-intuitive to the fiction publishing business in which a writer sets out to sell as many copies (or units), of his or her book to the reading public as he or she can, and therefore rake in a lot of money. Or, that's the theory behind publishing anyway. But my NFT is being offered to the highest bidder who will not only receive the story in digital, pixelated form, they will also receive a hard-copy manuscript with my signature which can then be framed for posterity. 

Do I think my short story is going to sell for millions of dollars or the equivalent in Etherium (Bitcoin's main competitor on the blockchain)? God only knows, but it's a start. Like I said, as far as I know, I'm the only author doing this right now, so like Indian Jones, I'm just making this up as I go. But in the back and fore of my mind, I can't help but see other writers joining the cause. Creating short or even long fiction that's meant to be bought and sold to just one individual who wishes to own a one-of-a-kind piece of literature. 

Kind of tickles the imagination, doesn't it? 

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5 New Year’s Resolutions Every Full-Time Fiction Writer Must Make in 2020, or Else Get a Day Job

(Courtesy Return of Kings)

It’s the new year and already I can feel change in the air. After all, this isn’t only a new year. It’s a new decade. A new era if you will, where politics are becoming more and more divisive, traditional norms like marriage and religion are eroding, and robots are about to take over the workforce. It will be a time of adaptation and innovation. Anyone who doesn’t plan for the future is making a plan to fail.

That’s especially true of full-time fiction writers. Long gone are the traditional query and wait days (that is, unless you’re a total dolt and choose to go that route), while authors can now get their work to market independent of the New York publishing houses in a matter of weeks or even days with online publishing platforms like Amazon KDP and/or Draft to Digital. If you’re like me, you engage in both the traditional and independent forms of publishing (I guess that makes me half a dolt), or what’s better known as the hybrid method. What this means is, there’s never been a better time to be a genre fiction author.

But unlike ten years ago, when you could upload a full-length novel and expect it to sell, the market is far more saturated than it used to be. Now you need to fight for attention not only with fellow mid-list authors, but also the big leaguers like John Grisham and Stephen King. In order to make your brand stick out from the crowd in 2020, and therefore make a good living, you’ll need to do these five things, or die!

1.     Advertise. For better or for worse, investing even a small amount of capital in Amazon ads is absolutely necessary for getting eyes on your books. I’m not about to get into the nitty gritty of how they work, because it’s still a mystery to me precisely how they work. Just know this: Eyes=Impressions. The more impressions the better chance that someone is going to buy one of or more of your books. That said, I’m going to concentrate on advertising first-in-series books, knowing that chances are, the average serial reader will want to read my entire series. 

2.      Optimize. I have something like 40 indie products. Maybe more. I’ve lost count. After five years of solid writing, and very little attention paid to selling, other than the occasional marketing promo, I’m going to be changing out my keywords with the help of KDP Rocket. I’m also going to take a good hard look at my product descriptions to make sure they pass the quality test. Go for enticement, not a book summary. I’ll also look at pricing. Are my books priced too low, or am I charging what they are truly worth? 

3.      Serialize. Unlike my standalones, which I sell to traditional publishers (for the most part, that is), the indie game is all about books in a series. I presently have about seven series going, but I’m going to increase that number. In fact, I’m never going to stop inventing new series. Simply said, they result in long tail sales. Now that’s the gift that keeps on giving.

4.      Audiblize. Audio books are presently exploding. People are reading (listening) to books on their smartphones like never before. I saw my audio sales triple in 2019 and I expect that to happen again in 2020. To be honest, I never used to pay attention to the audio market until I woke up in quarter three of last year and suddenly realized their awesome potential as a money maker. 

5.      Capitalize. Capitalize on other paper book outlets, that is. Another thing I discovered quite by accident in 2019. While eBooks listed in Amazon KU are exclusive to that program and therefore cannot be sold anywhere else, paper is not exclusive. That means you can set up accounts at Ingram Spark for instance. As an experiment, I bought 10 ISBNs off MyIdentifier.com and published eight paperbacks on Ingram Spark (that’s not a typo. I screwed up two of the ISBNs and lost them, but that’s another story). I immediately started earning low three figures right off the bat. Of course, that will only increase with each new book published.       

In a nutshell, I won’t be just a writing machine in 2019. I’ll actually slow down with publishing (primarily because I have two traditional titles being published), but on the other hand, I will be upping my selling efforts in a big way. It’s not enough to be an artist in 2020 and beyond. You must also be a businessman or woman. You must sell you junk if you want to survive in this brave new world that’s changing all around us all the time.   

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The Big Publishing Break that Nearly Ended My Career

photo courtesy prominentoffers.com

The literal definition of the word confluence, thanks to Google (what would we do without Google?), is the place where two rivers merge. The image is just too rich to ignore as a metaphor, especially for full-time writers like me.

I have had times in my twenty-plus year career when I could do no wrong. I just happened to be writing the right manuscript (The Innocent), at the right time (the late 1990's), which I sent to the right agent (Jimmy Vines in NYC), who sold it to the right marketplace (Delacorte Press) in a two book, hard and soft deal worth $235K. I was floored.

Movie companies were frantically calling and full feature picture deals were being considered by the likes of Dreamworks and Robert DeNiro's production company. Even George Clooney wanted in. There were others, but I forget them now. But you get the point. Newspapers and magazines wanted to write about me and I happily sat for their interviews. I'm partying in New York City with my agent and editor, renting lavish hotel suites in Gramercy Park, and dining out in expensive steakhouses. I was maybe 34 years old. It was a magical time.

The novel, which is now renamed As Catch Can since another author had already used the title, is released to spectacular reviews. The New York Post writes me a love letter. They call it, "Sensational...masterful...brilliant." Says the Times Union, "As Catch Can is a thriller that has depth and substance, wickedness and compassion." Don Winslow calls it "...tough, stylish, heartbreaking."

Can this novel do no wrong?

The Writer's Curse: The Big Yawn

As it turns out, yes it can. Despite the great reviews and media attention, the novel doesn't sell. When it comes to book buyers, all we get is the big yawn. When I tell people I meet on the street or inside some bar, the title, As Catch Can, they inevitably look at me with furrowed brow and respond, "As Catch what?" Even when they finally get it, they search for a book called Catch As Catch Can, and I lose yet another sale. Things tumble downwards from there in a ... wait for it... confluence of disasters.

I've put the majority of my advance into a new house, while my wife at the time asks me for a divorce. Whatever money I have left, goes to the divorce lawyer and alimony payments (the divorce was ugly, but we're good friends now). I had been a freelancer prior to the big deal, but since I was falsely convinced more and more huge deals were right around the corner, I cut ties with my clients. My agent won't return my calls, my publisher won't publish anymore books once the contract is fulfilled, I owe the IRS a bunch of cash, and I'm out of work.

Getting a major deal might have been the worst thing to ever happen to me.

Damage Control for the Writer

Fast forward a few years. I'm in full damage control mode, and back to freelance writing, slowly digging myself out of my professional and financial hole. I'm also back to writing fiction on the side. I pen a new detective novel called Moonlight Falls and I sell it to a small press. Its not the biggest deal in the world, but I'm officially back in the game. I write another Dick Moonlight PI novel, Moonlight Rises, and then I write a big standalone called The Remains. It's at this time, a nifty little device called the Kindle hits the marketplace and along with it, Kindle Direct Publishing. All sorts of little publishers are springing up. eBooks are their bread and butter.

In the meantime, my new agent has successfully gotten the rights to The Innocent (As Catch Can) and its follow-up, Godchild, back from Delacorte. It was a stroke of very good luck. Because what that meant was I could now republish both books with my new publisher.

The Writer is Back on Top

I'm in Italy with my then girlfriend when more good news comes my way. The Innocent is not only rocketing up the charts, it will eventually land in the Number 2 spot on the overall Amazon bestseller list and stay in the top ten for a full month. Altogether, I will sell 100K copies in a little more than 6 weeks. At the same time, Godchild will sell 25K copies. And my new novel, The Remains, will sell 25K+ copies also. The movie companies are calling again and so is the press. It's a confluence of good luck.

I'll go on to land another major deal with one of the Amazon Publishing imprints for all of the above- stated novels, plus the entire Dick Moonlight PI series. I'll hit the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists with a box set I'm included in, and my novel Moonlight Weeps will win both the ITW Thriller Award and the PWA Shamus Award. Suddenly, life is grand again.

A Golden Age Dawns for Genre Fiction Writers

Despite the good karma, I'm not as stupid as I was years earlier when I decided to live life like a rock star and give up creating opportunities for myself. Success in the writing business can be cyclical at best, fleeting at worst. That said, I start a small publishing company called Bear Media, and I begin publishing several brand new series under its imprints. Books like The Shroud Key, sell tens of thousands of copies, others not so much, but they still sell, and I don't have to split the proceeds with another publisher or an agent. I can also write whatever the hell I want. Best of all, I have total control. I'm no longer a slave to the fickle publishing system. The golden age of genre fiction writing was upon us.

 Not Everything is Rosy for the Writer

Spring ahead another few years. The editors and marketing pros I worked with at the Amazon Publishing imprint are gone and a whole new crew has taken their place. I still have maybe five novels with them, including The Remains, but they rarely communicate with me anymore and my once four-figure per month income has dwindled considerably. But I now have forty-plus novels under my own label, and I'm writing new books for two more publishers. By the looks of things, I'm about to strike a contract extension with one of them. We're also getting movie interest again.

The point to all this? The older you get, the more you recognize the seesaw patterns in the professional writing business. To put it simply, nothing is guaranteed, and like I once told the New York Times in a 2014 interview, publishers aren't in the business to be your friend. One day they're wining and dining you, and the next they're ghosting your emails. A writer can go through years of total media disinterest and then suddenly, you're once more an overnight sensation. 

The thing to keep in mind is this: the highs are never that high and the lows are really never that low. There are going to be good times, and you must learn to endure the bad by creating your own income streams like I did with Bear Media. That's the reality of the writer's life. But hey, that's show biz, folks. Don't like it? Get a real job.

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Too many novels too little time...

I just woke up from a nap and found myself staring at the ceiling and going over all the projects I currently have on the boards. Coming Xmas Eve will be the collected 1st Season of The Handyman, the steamy noir thriller episodic series I brought out this Fall under my Bear Media label (Bear Noir). The pilot novel in the new Young Chase Baker YA spin-off series is set for editing and formatting come February. It's called Chase Baker and the Cross of the Last Crusade. There's the second in the new Steve Jobz PI series, The Flower Man. I'm currently editing that one, and it will be on my editor's desk sometime after Xmas. My two big stand-alones that will go the traditional publishing route, The Doctor Will Kill You Now (formerly, The Girl Who Wasn't There) and No Good to Her Dead are still in the editing mode but will be finished up in the early winter one way or another, and then both will be in the hands of my agent. There's a spy novel that I wrote last year, but haven't looked at since. That will come out in the spring. I have 8K words on a new Jack Marconi novel, Sins of the Sons, and just a moment ago, my publisher at Polis Books sent me the final proofs of The Detonator which comes out in hardcover in February. Did I mention the two short stories I'm also working on?
So why then am I blogging?
I should be working.
Think I'll take another nap...

PS. Remember, Zandri books make great "stocking stuffers..." Just go here...
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Papa's Advice for Traveling and Working and Living

"Never go on trips with anyone you do not love."--EH

Last night I packed my bag (that's right, bag, as in one carry-on bag or in this case, ratty old backpack) and my laptop for what will be an extended trip to Italy (and points beyond). For two months I will be working, touring the Italian edition of Moonlight Sonata, eating, drinking, playing, and whatever else I feel like doing.

All this in mind, I thought it might be appropriate to pass on some travel and writing tips to any of you considering the life of the literary expat (even if only for a month or two). But then it kind of dawned on me that you shouldn't take my word for it. Take someone else's word. Someone made famous not only by his words but by his love and fascination with travel.

Ernest Hemingway.

Here's what Birchbox compiled with regards to Papa's love of the road, the air, and the sea, not to mention his never ceasing passion for working while traveling. Something I can relate to as easily as breathing.


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per·i·pa·tet·ic man

Sam Shepard. A self-proclaimed Peripatetic Man.

per·i·pa·tet·ic

ˌperēpəˈtedik/

adjective

Constantly on the move... 

What is it about the writing life that makes us averse to spending too much time in one place, as if being tied down means total meltdown of our talent and our writing ability? I suppose there must be writers out there who like to stay home. Who enjoy the security of four walls, a fireplace, a clean bath, and three hot squares per day. But how creative are they? How productive? How happy? 

Happy...

Jim Harrison who once said, if you feel as though you're writing with 16 ounce boxing gloves on, it's time to get out of the house, sometimes for months at a time.

How happy is the Peripatetic Man? The lack of security. The four walls of a cheap motel room, the sound of paid-for sex banging against the wall that separates you from the space next door. The filthy bath with the shower drain that doesn't work. The occasional decent Denny's meal. The booze (Don't forget the booze...). The loneliness. 

There's something invigorating about always being on the move. And sad too. Chasing your own tail for the sake of a tale or two. But I'm not sure  a writer...a writer who matters after he's dead...can live any other way.

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What I Feared the Most

This time of year is a bit strange for me in several ways, not the least of which is the anniversary of my split with my second wife. This happened 9 years ago, almost to the day. It was a rough time for me, for her, for our infant daughter, for my two sons from my first marriage.

I was in rough shape. After having had a successful run as a freelance journalist, having earned my MFA in Writing, having nailed my first quarter million dollar contract with a big NYC publisher, all within a period of 7 or 8 years, I found myself without any kind of writing job whatsoever, my hope of nailing a second book contract a pipe dream, and now, my second marriage to a woman I loved, most definitely on the rocks.

For years I blamed the publishing system. You know, if it hadn't been for their silly consolidations my editors wouldn't have been fired and I, along with a bunch of other writers, wouldn't have been shown the door, our only hope to start all over again. If they hadn't given me that big two book contract in the first place, I wouldn't have quit freelancing as a journalist and severed ties with my bosses. The hole I had dug all by myself, for myself...somehow it was all somebody else's fault when in fact it was my fault for not seeing the writing on the wall in the first place and for storing all my golden eggs in one basket that was riddled with holes.

You see, once you've been to the big time and enjoyed the accolades and the parties and the back pats, it's pretty damned hard to pick yourself up again from out of the gutter, and start all over. All you want to do instead is run and hide. You fear everything. The phone ringing, a knock on the door, dinner with friends. You know, friends who will ask you if you are "still writing."

You fear the bills coming in. You fear the hollowness in your wallet and in your heart. You fear that look on your wife's face that says, "We're broke. Why don't you pick up some kind of work?" You fear having to get a job. A real job. You fear having to become a nobody again, and you fear having to write your way out of a hole because you worked so damned hard at it the first time around, you're not sure you have the energy to do it all over again even if you haven't yet hit forty. 

Mostly what you fear is yourself.

My wife didn't want to have to ask me to leave, but she had no choice. As I stood inside my new small apartment, alone, feeling devastated, I knew I had no choice but to confront my worst fear. I sat down in front of my laptop, and I pushed all resistance aside, and I went to work writing the novel that would become Moonlight Falls. For better or for worse.

Nine years ago this week, I faced my worst fear, and it has made all the difference. 

The newly released 8th Episode in the Dick Moonlight PI Noir series: MOONLIGHT WEEPS

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Lost in Time Lake Titicaca

The people here don't have clocks. They don't have watches, they don't have smartphones, and they don't have internet (as far as I can tell). They don't have any kind of device that chimes, rings, chirps, vibrates, or belts out the opening bars to some Lady Gaga song stuffed into their pockets. Thy don't need to be reminded of the time. Like one of my travel partners, Vadmir, tells me, 'In Russia, we have saying: those who are happy do not need to know what time it is." Such is the case when it comes to the Peruvian people who occupy LLachon.

A small community of maybe 2,000 residents who occupy a portion of pristine beach-side property along the north/west side of Lake Titicaca, the dark, leathery-skinned people of LLachon are as oblivious of the outside world and its turbulent troubles as an American toddler is of ObamaCare or the escalating conflict in Syria. They wear the traditional Peruvian clothing. The women dress in a half dozen skirts which are supposed to mimic the English hoop skirt of old. And the men dress very much in the old Spanish way--black trousers, white shirts, short black vest, a colorful hand woven fabric belt that holds both coca leaves and alcohol, and a fedora for a hat.

I'm currently researching the second book in my brand new Chase Baker series, so I came to this place to stay with a family who run a mountain-side farm and, at the same time, to absorb authentic Andean Peruvian culture. Considering Lake Titicaca is already about 12,000+ feet above sea level,  breathing normally is not easy. Nor is climbing the better part of a small, terraced mountain with a fifty pound pack on my back. But my house "mama," a weathered but somehow bright-eyed woman called Francesca, is already cooking for me over a wood-fired stove. A piece of farm chicken, rice, several kinds of potatos, fava beans, all washed down with tea made from coca leaves.

After lunch, I help out on the the farm, watering sheep and stacking barley. It's hard work and at times I have to remind myself that I'm standing on a mountainside in the Andes and not transported back to one of my dad's construction sites for which I was the laborer during my high school and college days. As we near the end of the barley stacking, I turn to "papa," a man who goes by the name Luciano, but whom I am already referring to as Lucky Luciano. I ask him if he hunts the property further uphill. He doesn't understand me at first, so I demonstrate by making like I'm holding a rifle with my hands, and then mouthing the sounds, "bang, bang..." He laughs and in his hunched over, been-workng-far-too-many-years-hard-labor manner, begs me to follow him back to the main house.

When we arrive, he begins to explain to Francesca about what I want. Only, he's not making like a gun with his callused hands. Instead he's making like I want to smoke. Smoke something medicinal perhaps. Something that might transport me from this world to the outer world. He's got a small chin beard and mustache and he rubs them with forefinger and thumb like he, at sixty-eight years old, is ready to do a little partying.

But then Frnacesca begins to explain to him about what I'm really asking, and suddenly his smile dissolves. Sadly, there will be no smoking tonight. Only thoughts of cooking dinner, perhaps enjoying a Peruvian beer, then going to sleep early in a one room mud brick building attached to bathroom with no running water, but only a bucket filled with water for flushing a toilet with no toilet seat attached.

Maybe I should have smoked with Lucky Luciano. Maybe if I had, I would have no more need for watches, or clocks, or smartphones. Maybe I would have seen and experienced another life outside of the life I know all to well. A life of war, poverty, and political agendas. Perhaps there is something to this more or less ancient existence on Lake Titicaca. An existence that is lost in time, but happy to be so.

 -----

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EBook Observations!!!

"This guy got a cool job or what? What's he got to do with EBooks? read on...."






A year ago I was primarily employed as a freelance journalist. Over the past 14 months, I've been on assignment in Africa, Moscow, Italy, Paris, and New York. All totaled I've written probably about 600 short pieces for various global publications over the past 5 years like RT, and Globalspec, written hundreds of professional blogs. Being a freelance writer is hard, so I consider myself lucky. I have work.

But over the past 6 months, my life has changed. With the publication of my new thrillers Moonlight Falls and The Remains, my first published novels since Godchild of 2001, I am now making money again as a fiction writer. Where's the bulk of that money coming from? EBooks and Kindles.

6 months ago, I hardly knew EBooks existed. Now I'm all about EBooks. Why? They are not only the future, they are the present, BIG TIME. I know, I know, you all like to hold a real book in your hands, smell the paper, feel the touch....I do too. Which is why all my books are still being published in trade paper as well. But in terms of making money on paper, let's put it this way, I don't even bother to look at my numbers. What's even more interesting, if not disturbing, my present publishers have all been complaining that distributors are lagging far behind on payments because bookstores are lagging far behind on payments and what's worse, going out of business before they MAKE their payments.

Back to the EBook. Why do I love them as an author? Because....
1. I make far more money per unit sold. So does my publisher and so does my agent, and so long as they're happy, they will want to continue working with me. And my novels are EBook bestsellers so that means my work is popular.

2. I have more control as an author. My rights aren't locked up in some NYC vault for ten years. Also, I don't have to wait a full year for a book to be published. EBooks can be edited, proofed, delivered, and published within a few short weeks, increasing their earning capacity by leaps and bounds. And once they are published, they will always be published and always be making money. If one day I decide to start publishing my own books, I will make twice the money per unit I'm earning now.

3. The EBook market, while ten years old, is in its infancy. As the price per reader device comes down and as EBooks become more popular than even mass market paperbacks, my earning capacity will increase considerably. In fact, it's increasing everyday, which is my my present publisher has not only signed me for two more books.

4. Enhanced EBooks are on their way. I'm looking forward to seeing my novels enahanced with video, pics, audio files, music and more.

5. I don't have to do so many book signings. You might think as an author, I might love doing book signings. That they migh be a big ego boost. Well, they are, and I support indie bookstores as much as I can. However, I've done too many signings where just about no one shows up, and I'm sick of disappointed looks from shop owners. Now, with the EBook, I can sell more books in the time it takes to drink a large Dunkin Donuts coffee by engaging in social media marketing from my bedroom or my sun-drenched stone terrace or my five story walk-up apartment in Florence, Italy, than I can standing all alone in some local bookstore.

6. Digital Shorts. During the span of my near 20 year career, I've published about 20 short stories in various journals and magazines. None of these properties make me any money nor are they available to the general public. Until now that is. Now two of my most anthologized shorts,
True Stories and Pathological, are available exclusively on Kindle for $.99 And guess what, they are both bestsellers in True Crime, Theater and Drama....

7. All of my previously Out of Print books are about to be re-edited, repackaged and re-published. They will be making money again.

8. The future. It feels good to have gotten in on the bottom floor of an ever expanding universe of EBook and Kindle opportunities. Taken altogether, I'm selling about 300-500 plus Kindle units alone per month. That includes Digie Shorts, and all my novels. By this time next year I expect that number to triple or even quadruple. In other words, my sales will explode exponentially.

What all this means of course, is that in a very short time, I won't have to be a journalist anymore if I don't want to. However, I'm not just a writer. I'm also a lover of adventure. I can't imagine a future without packing my backpack with a few days worth of clothing, packing my laptop, my passport, my guidebooks, my camera. I can't imagine not lacing up my big leather boots, slipping on my leather jacket or safari jacket (depending upon the climate), and heading out to the airport for some overseas flight to a destination I've never before experienced. I can't imagine not writing about it either. Only difference now, is that instead of packing and lugging a couple of pounds worth of books with me, from now on I'll take along my Kindle. When I arrive back home, I'll purchase the paper versions for my library.

Bon voyage summer. Hello fall...Hello football weather!
To order the bestselling "Remains," click HERE!

The 'What Now' Syndrome

"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.