Rosellen Brown - One of the Greatest Literary Talents We Shall Ever Have the Opportunity to Read

Conducting interviews with authors has allowed me to come in contact with some of - not just great literary talents - the finest human beings currently living. Rosellen Brown epitomizes and exemplifies that point.

Q) What was the defining moment or event that sparked your desire to become a published author?

A) I can’t speak for others (about anything I have to say!) but I certainly didn’t think of publishing when I began writing – I was a child and I loved reading; it felt natural to want to do that thing myself. I suppose that later I showed my writing to others and enjoyed the strokes I got for it, which I suppose you could call a kind of publishing. Actually, the whole idea of publication as a motivation is one of the things I like least about the current literary world: Too many people think “Oh, I can become a famous and maybe even a rich author” instead of writing to satisfy an internal need. For “real” (at least what I’d call serious) writers, writing is a necessity, not a career option.

Q) You have one husband, two daughters, two cats, and too many books (read and unread). Your life appears to be as unordinary as the next-door neighbor’s. Yet your novels of life are filled with anger, bewilderment, doubt, and ethical principles in relationships - and masterfully so I might add. Where do you draw inspiration for such inner turmoil?

A) Good question and thank you for the compliment. I’ve always thought I dream up those terrible situations so they won’t happen to me – sort of, sacrificing my characters to the gods so that they’ll think, “Oh, yeah, she already experienced this… if only in her imagination.” Seriously.

I also, of course, find the conundrums that arise in many lives simply interesting because those moral questions are challenging and people’s responses are difficult, unpredictable, not necessarily pleasing; I only hope that I can report them realistically. Saul Bellow said about one of his less admirable characters, “I came to represent him, not to recommend him.” Because my people don’t always react as my readers might like, I find that I have to defend them very often (and, of course, since I made them, I have a kind of sympathy for every one of them.) “Do you recognize this response?” I ask. “I didn’t ask if you approve of it, only if you think it’s plausible under (whatever) the circumstances.” Readers, of course, tend to think their behavior, even under duress, would be impeccable.

Q) In Street Games your voice is powerful and Anglo, Puerto Rican, African-American, male, female, parent, and child. The Chicago Tribune calls it “An American classic.” Who are these characters? You gave them life, but they obviously were not born from you.

A) I lived on a block like that one in Brooklyn for a few years and found myself fascinated by my neighbors there. I didn’t “study” them to write about them, only discovered – mostly – after the fact, after we’d moved away, that many, in vastly different form, might generate stories. I’m very bad at coming up with plots, so a lot of these are really more about the small ways in which people make themselves known to others and to themselves. Only one arose identifiably out of a real person and because I made up a lot so that my character was an amalgam of real and imagined, I felt I needed to beg her approval. (She was highly amused and gave me her blessing.) Usually as close as I get to anyone real is as a stimulus: I sort of narrow my eyes to make someone really blurry and then I fill in my own details. As for myself – I never write about my very unremarkable self; I like to be transparent. Of course everything that gets down on paper has gone through my head – into and out of it! – but you won’t learn anything more about me than what I’ve concentrated on.

Q) Because your writing is so strong, so relevant, and so contemporary, would you be willing to come to a community such as Freeport and meet with fans at either the library or bookstore?

A) Yes, absolutely. In fact my favorite part of any reading I give (you obviously know that we do a lot of those at colleges and bookstores) is the Question and Answer time at the end when I get to really engage with my listeners, who often surprise, delight and enlighten me with their insights and observations. There are a lot of myths about writers being too lofty to “relate,” but you’re right to want to prove that we’re actually ordinary folks who (as you said, lacking either intelligence or sanity!) work to make something very difficult look simple.

Q) What advice can you give to a struggling writer trying to become published?

A) Sometimes I think the only question struggling writers want the answer to is “How do I get an agent?” and though I don’t want to mock the difficulty of breaking into publication, I have to go back to my first answer: If you don’t write for yourself, and learn your craft before you take it to “the market,” you’d better be okay with the fact that you’re going to be rewarded for doing what somebody else has already done. There are “genre” writers – purveyors of romance, mysteries, police procedurals, etc. which can be done by following a pattern, and that’s okay if that’s what you’re interested in; there are some terrific books in all those categories. But for what’s called “literary” writing, which I’d compare to a hand-tooled piece of furniture as opposed to something extruded from a machine (except at its best), there are no shortcuts: read a lot, imitate your betters (purposely, knowing that you’re imitating) and take your time. Find a reader who is willing to be honest with you and not just love you as a friend or spouse. Find a mentor if you can. Find a group that will also enjoy what’s working in your writing but crack it open and look inside, challenge you, demand revision, etc. There are plenty of ways to connect, these days, with helpful peers and mentors. And when it looks most discouraging – because the publishing world has been torn to pieces by many forces – take notice of all the books by new writers that nonetheless continue to emerge. Many of the best of them come from small presses your mother will not have heard of but that doesn’t matter; try to get the work between covers when it’s ready and keep on moving toward the next story or book or poem and the next and the next. Publication ought to be a reward, not a lure, and when you’re writing it shouldn’t take up more than an atom of space in your brain.

Dedication + Integrity + Talent = Sandra Jackson-Opoku

Twenty years. Two decades. What did you do with your last twenty years?

Sandra Jackson-Opoku used hers to write one of the most stirring accounts ever written recounting the plight of African women and their abduction from their homes to the "New World."

I sincerely thank her for taking the time to answer some questions for me. Ms Jackson-Opoku is a woman of dignity and grace and it was my honor to have shared a moment in time with her.


Q) What was the defining moment or event that sparked your desire to become a published author?

A) I seem to trace that impetus back as far as my pre-reading days, around the age of four. Mine was among the first African Americans to integrate a public housing complex called Trumbull Park. One of our neighbors was a steelworker and writer, Frank London Brown who wrote a novel about the experience, appropriately titled Trumbull Park. I recall being inspired by that an ordinary person, someone who lived nearby could write a book and have it published.

I was also inspired by my father, Roscoe Jackson Sr., who wasn't a writer, but a great storyteller. He told these colorful (sometimes off-color) stories about people like Shine and Joe the Grinder. I didn't know it at the time, but these were bawdy figures from African American folklore. I thought Daddy was making it all up!

The character of John the Baptist Wright from my second novel, Hot Johnny and the Women Who Loved Him was modeled somewhat on Jody, AKA Joe the Grinder, who was a legendary lover and ladies' man.

Q) Your debut novel THE RIVER WHERE BLOOD IS BORN won the Black Caucus of the American Library Association Award for Fiction. While a motivating and dramatic epic of a family of women spanning three hundred years and the water that ties each generation to the previous, it is the story of its telling that I personally find intriguing. That story spans two decades. For this novel to become reality, it took an inextinguishable flame deep within you. Please share with us what fuelled your soul to place a beating heart within this book.

A) The novel's origins were very different than what it eventually became. It began after my first trip to Africa in my early twenties. I spent a year in Lagos, Nigeria as an exchange student and got to travel around the country and other destinations in West Africa. My main interest in writing in those days was journalism and poetry. When I returned I started doing travel writing, and thought I'd do some pieces on my experiences in Africa. Those pieces started morphing into short fiction about black women travelers. One of those stories was published in a feminist journal called Heresies, and went on to win the CCLM/General Electric Award for Younger Writers in 1983. I eventually was able to acquire a literary agent and a book deal.

Cheryl Woodruff, my new editor at Ballantine/One World encouraged me to develop what was then a collection of themed short stories into a novel. My challenge then was to figure out a connection between these characters from different places and times. I discovered that they were a family, all descended from the same woman who'd been born in 18th century West Africa, captured into slavery, and transplanted to the Americas. I also had to find some kind of "connective tissue" to stitch these fragments into a whole cloth. That became a storytelling frame between two otherworldly narrators -- the Gatekeeper of the Great Beyond, and Ananse, the storytelling spider from African and Diasporan folklore.

Q) Your duties as an educator keep you extremely busy. Your writing weaves ‘real life’ into a tapestry – one that we long to enjoy with an artist’s eye. Can we look forward to another novel from you?

A) I recently took a year off to write and to roam. I gave up my apartment and stayed in various artists' communities throughout the country, where I worked on three novels. I'm still doing some polishing on them. I can't yet say when will they appear. Hopefully soon.

Q) What advice can you give to a struggling writer trying to become published?

A) That's a poignant question. With the current economic crisis and the changes in the publishing industry, it is a challenging time for writers right now. All I can say is "be encouraged," and stay the course. When the dust settles, I suspect there will be even more opportunities for writers to become published. It may go without saying, but "don't be quick to quit your day job." There are certainly exceptions, but few writers are able to support themselves fully from their writing. Most of us have to do other things.

Marcus Sakey - The Next Household Name in Crime Drama

If there is any writer who fits the preconceived mold so many of us seem to erroneously possess about authors, it would be the literary talents of Marcus Sakey.

His debut novel THE BLADE ITSELF was released internationally and the film rights were purchased by award winning actor and producer Ben Affleck.

A fluke? His second and third novels received the same acclaim with the film rights to both being purchased immediately, the third, GOOD PEOPLE, by Toby McGuire’s production company. And his fourth novel, THE AMATEURS, is on the same fast track of ensuring Sakey’s well-deserved position as one of America’s best known authors.

Back at home in Chicago for a brief respite, Marcus was kind enough to take a few minutes to share some thoughts with me.

Q) What was the defining moment or event that sparked the desire to become a published author?

A) Learning to read. I remember the moment, the exact instant when the squiggles became words and I could see Spot run. That was it, I was hooked.

Q) Many authors in the crime/mystery/thriller genre hang their hats, hopes, and careers on one protagonist. You haven’t, though I am aware there have been those suggesting you write a book series. Will there be a series and if so, what type of character will your protagonist be?

A) Hard to say. I certainly wouldn’t rule out the possibility. But right now, I really like coming to each book fresh. I have some overlapping characters—most very minor, although there is one in my upcoming novel that is a pretty big figure—but you still couldn’t really call the books a series.
If I do write a series, I’ll likely follow the model of people like Laura Lippmann and Harlan Coben, where I write one in the series, then a standalone or two, then return to the series.
For me, after I spend a whole year with a group of characters, I’m just not interested in diving into another year with them right away. I wouldn’t bring the energy that I need.

Q) Even though your first three books were snatched up for potential films and your fourth is receiving critical acclaim, you remain one of the truly nice guys. I personally have seen you taking time to speak with fans when you didn’t have to. How do you keep yourself grounded and not let your success get in the way of who your are?

A) Kind of you to say. I guess the thing is, I don’t really think of myself as any sort of big shot. I love talking to fans because we’re talking about books and writing, and those are two of my favorite subjects. Not only that, but it’s an incredible feeling to know that someone out there really dug what I created, that it kept them up past their bedtime, just as so many books have done for me. So it’s not any sort of sacrifice.
And on a general level, I believe you get out of life what you put in. Being an asshole may let you win in the short-term, but it’s a pyrrhic victory.

Q) What advice can you give to a struggling writer trying to become published?

A) Ass in chair, fingers on keyboard. If you want to be a writer, you need to write. Thinking about it and talking about it are hobbies—if you want to make a living at it, it needs to be a job.
As far as specific, tactical advice, I have a tome on my website (MarcusSakey.com), from how to write a query letter to some of my day-to-day tips on crafting a story and polishing your prose.

An Interview with International Author Sam Reaves

Q)What was the defining moment or event that sparked the desire to become a published author?

A)I remember wanting to be an author as a child, just about as soon as I learned to read and figured out where books came from, i.e. that somebody has to write them. When I was in first or second grade somebody gave me a set of cards with pictures and bios of famous authors, and that glamorized the whole thing. I think I declared my intention to be an author about that time.

Of course, I also wanted to be a jet pilot, professional football player, underwater explorer à la Jacques Cousteau, and a million other things as the years went by. But the author thing stuck with me as the others fell by the wayside. In college, where we acquire most of our pretensions, I decided I was going to write literary fiction, and I spent a couple of years writing the first chapter of a novel that never got off the ground. And then finally I realized I should be writing crime fiction, which was what I had always most enjoyed reading.

Q)You are an educator, author, and family man who attends conferences, seminars, and book signings. You're one of the 'nice guys' who makes himself available to his fans. It has to be a hectic schedule. How do you handle it so it doesn’t take away from your family time, as I know how important family is to you?

A)I am fortunate enough to have a day job as a free-lancer that allows me to work on my own schedule, so I can take a few days off and go to a conference if I want to. I should do more in the way of promotion than I do; effective promotion is a full-time job. I just fit in what I can. To tell the truth, I consider conferences, signings and other events the perks of the job, a chance to get out and meet people. Writing is very solitary, and the payoff is to be able to go rub elbows with interesting people at a conference or workshop.

Q)In your private life you read and stay current on world events and political issues. Given your preference for engaging in conversation and debate about the world around us, what prompted you to write hard-boiled Chicago crime fiction?

A)I grew up reading crime fiction; my father, who was a theoretical physicist by trade, had been reading and collecting mysteries since the thirties and had a closet full of old Pocket Books with the wonderfully lurid covers and vintage Penguins from England acquired when he studied at Oxford in the fifties. In my teens I started working my way through my father’s collection, and I just got hooked. So it was natural that when I finally got serious about writing, my efforts would be channeled in that direction.

As for Chicago, that’s where I live. There is no better canvas for a crime writer (or any kind of writer) than Chicago; it’s the great American city, diverse and dynamic and with a rich tradition of corruption and intrigue to boot.

Q)As international author Dominic Martell you breathe life into Pascual Rose. What inspired that character and why Spain as his base of operations?

A)In college I spent a wonderful junior year abroad in Barcelona and fell in love with the place. Later I lived in France for a year; I’ve traveled widely and picked up a few languages and wound up working as a translator. So while my background is firmly rooted in Middle America, there’s this whole side of me that is deeply interested in foreign countries, the world at large. And my Dominic Martell books are just a way of dealing with all that in fiction. One of the authors I grew up reading was Eric Ambler, who wrote espionage/intrigue novels set in interesting locales, and I always wanted to write something along those lines. The Martell books have allowed me to take a few interesting research trips and write about places that fascinate me.

Q)I know it’s a bit trite, but any interview with an established author has to conclude with this question: What advice can you give to a struggling writer trying to become published?

A)Don’t quit! In addition to a modicum of talent and ceaseless work to improve your craft, persistence is what you need most to break into print. There is a great deal of competition, and success is not always determined by literary merit, sad to say. Good books get rejected all the time. Your manuscript has to land on the right editor’s desk on the right day. The only way to succeed is to finish that book, send it out and start collecting rejections and, most importantly, get to work on the next book. Don’t spend the rest of your life trying to sell one book. The more you write the better you get; there’s a learning curve in this as in anything else. I wrote four novels that were never published before I had one accepted. So keep writing, keep working on your game, and above all, don’t let anyone make you quit.

An Interview with Author Barbara Sheridan

Barbara Sheridan, author of Timeless Wish amongst many others over her two decades of writing, took a few minutes to chat with me. You can find her at barbarasheridan.com

Q: What was the defining moment or event that sparked your desire to become a published romance/mystery author?

A: It pretty much started when I was left unsatisfied by the end of Interview With the Vampire. I took a little spiral notebook and wrote a new ending. Making my own stuff up was fun and creating my own characters even more fun. And addictive.

Q: Originally published by Berkley, your latest novels such as Falling Through Glass are e-published. How do you rate e-published novels against traditional paper books?

A: Quality and entertainment wise I'd put books from the top e-publishers up against books from "the big guys" any day. If you want "different" books, such as multicultural, GLBT, unusual settings, historical periods and unique characters, you can certainly find them from e-publishers.

Q: Do you think there should be some form of e-filtering system to root out manuscripts that simply aren’t worth reading?

A: There already is a filtering system of sorts. The long established e-publishers, and some newer, smaller ones have high standards when it comes to accepting manuscripts. They also put a lot of effort into making those books the best they can be once contracted.

Q: You have partnered with Anne Cain on several books now. How did you two become acquainted?

A: It was pretty accidental actually. We both belonged to an email loop that started as a fan group for the Japanese anime Rurouni Kenshin. An online role-playing game spun off of that combining established fictional and historical characters along with original characters. Anne and I both created a set of original characters (Anne's Chinese assassin and my fictional son of a real Japanese samurai) who interacted and entertained us so much that we had to play with them outside the game and give them their own involved plot.
The storyline was awesome so we eventually reworked it into a 3rd person point of view into what would become The Dragon's Disciple. We co-wrote thirteen books that tie into the DD Universe and I did a short story and two novellas on my own that tie in as well. It’s truly its own little universe, spanning historical, paranormal, and contemporary sub genres.

Q: What advice can you give to a struggling writer trying to become published?

A: Read as much as you can in as many genres as you can. I'm a big believer in subliminal learning. I didn't have any formal writing training beyond the classes I took way back in high school, but I've read millions of words of fiction and non-fiction and "how to tell a good story" sunk in eventually. *laugh*
The most important bit of advice might be don't think that getting that agent or big publisher contract means you've "made it" and will have smooth sailing from then on. Things that are out of your control can happen. Soul crushing things that make you want to quit and never even think about fiction or submitting again. But, just like life in general, you have to keep going, suck up the crappy things and tell the stories that need to be told.

An Interview with Award-Winning Author Sean Chercover

Sean Chercover, for those who haven't ventured out of their bomb shelters in a couple of decades, is an outstanding crime, mystery, and thriller author based out of Chicago. Check him out at www.chercover.com.
Sean's literary achievements include an Anthony Award, Crimespree Award, CWA Short Story Dagger Award, and a Dilys Award, just to name a few.

Q) What was the defining moment or event that sparked your desire to become a published author?

A) Not sure there was one defining moment or event. My mom used to read me bedtime stories - Curious George was a favorite - and when we ran out of books, she'd sit by the bed and make up new Curious George stories. I remember being struck by the idea that all these amazing books were actually written by someone, just like my mom was making up stories. So the interest in storytelling started very early. By the fifth grade I was entertaining the fantasy of writing fiction as an actual job, and it was around that time I wrote my first short story.

Q) You enter a lot of contests and have done well in them, and deservedly so. How has that affected your writing career?

A) Actually, my publisher enters my books for awards, and I've been very lucky, and won more than my fair share. Those awards are helpful to my career, both in terms of validation, and in terms of making my name more familiar to a wider range of readers.

Q) “A Sleep Not Unlike Death” is an award winning Gravedigger Peace tale. He’s chilling, no doubt about it, and yet a character we want more of. What are your future plans for him?

A) Thanks very much! I'm thrilled by the response that I've gotten from readers to Gravedigger, and to that story. I suspect, at some point, Gravedigger will get his own book - maybe even his own series. Time will tell...

Q) I know you moved your writing office out of the house. How is that working out for you?

A) It's working beautifully, thanks. My productivity has gone way up. The office is a five minute walk from home, but it is a world apart. No phone ringing, nobody knocking on the door. When I'm at work, I'm at work. And when I close the computer and come home, then I'm no longer at work, and my family gets my full attention. I'm not tempted to sneak away to my home office and write. If I really want to work in the middle of the night (and that's not unusual), I take the walk back to my office. But the separation of the two is very good, both for my work and for my family life.

Q) Do you still have your Popeil Pocket Fisherman?

A) I do, and it still works! Been a couple years since I've put it in use (I do have a "real" fishing rod) but thanks for the reminder - I'll give it some action this summer.

Q) What advice can you give to a struggling writer trying to become published?

A) 1. Write (fiction - not blog posts, not Tweets, not Facebook status updates).
2. Read (fiction - not blog posts, not Tweets, not Facebook status updates).
3. Repeat steps 1 & 2, six days a week, for the rest of your life.

Dennis Jordan. You’ve probably not heard of him, and that is your loss.

It has been said that the measure of a man is how he lives his life. It has also been said that the true heroes remain nameless.

Abraham Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation. Dwight Eisenhower signed the 1957 Civil Rights Act. Martin Luther King Jr made them reality.

The one thing those men share is that they did none of it alone. Thousands of the nameless carved out the trails they paved.

John Jordan co-founded FOR (Freedom of Residence), a multi-racial community organization with one goal – to ensure Freeport, Illinois, residents could live where they chose. An intolerable situation today that most cannot fathom, but reality in 1964. Being the wrong color in the wrong neighborhood had dire consequences at that time. Whether it was a black family moving into a white neighborhood, or a white family moving into a black neighborhood, FOR was there to defend that family’s right to live where they chose. He also fathered a son – Dennis.

Raised in that atmosphere of ‘doing what is right irregardless of color,’ Dennis has never strayed from that belief. As president of the local chapter of the NAACP for many years, Dennis held to his convictions that every person matters. Sometimes that didn’t make him so popular on either side of the color barrier. And in those times Dennis stood alone. But that is what makes Dennis so memorable. He stood. He stood for his beliefs then, just as he stands for them today.

When neighbors wanted to do something about drug dealers, Dennis was there. When a gang-related shooting occurred outside his house, Dennis was there… armed only with his faith in the human spirit.

When programs were started supplying impoverished children with basic school supplies such as pencils and paper… Dennis was behind the scenes feverishly working to get it done.

When the police wanted to establish a substation in a high-crime neighborhood, Dennis was there assuring the residents that it wasn’t about police domination; it was about community concern. And it was Dennis who was present at the first community meetings in the community meeting rooms built within the remodeled house originally slated for demolition. And it was Dennis who made sure those same doors were open on Sunday mornings for a neighborhood church that formed and had no place to meet.

When the police chief walked the neighborhoods at night, it was Dennis walking beside him.

When a resident felt the police had wronged them, it was Dennis pounding on that same chief’s door, demanding the wrong be righted. I know. I was that police chief.

And when Dennis decided it was time to knock down walls and bridge the gap between police and the community, I was proud to stand with him and swing that sledgehammer, and then build that bridge with him. That bridge became known as the Community-Police Review Panel. It was a panel of residents and police who heard complaints of suspected or perceived racial injustice and discrimination. They did so with complete independence – without police or city government interference, and without community sentiment swaying their decisions and opinions. Dennis and I made sure of that.

When I was seated as chairman of the local Salvation Army board, I approached Dennis with my concern that there were only white faces on that board. Volunteers arrived for the next meeting and the board became integrated for the first time.

I’ve retired. Dennis hasn’t. His job isn’t finished yet. Today he remains in the same neighborhood he and his family have lived in throughout their lives.

He still investigates allegations of injustice without concern for color. His concern is for doing what is right. When he has to, he calls the Department of Justice and any other organization he needs to in order to right the wrong.

My hope is that one day Dennis Jordan can retire, his job finished once and for all. But until then he will remain one of those thousands you will never know the name of. He will get up every morning and go to work defending those who believe no one cares. Every night he will go to bed knowing he will get up the next morning to continue the same battle his father fought. And every day he will hope his own children do not have to carry on the fight.

There will be those who will continue to say Dennis is an agitator, a pain in the ass, and not willing to listen to reason. They are the same people who are the problem.

As for me, I will call him ‘actively and genuinely concerned with the rights of all people to live their lives as they choose.’ But most importantly, I will continue to call him “friend.”

An Interview With Author JA Konrath

THE READERS’ WRITERS

Joe “JA” Konrath is a multi-talented author in numerous genres. His series with protagonist Jacqueline “Jack” Daniels, the latest being “Cherry Bomb,” the seventh volume soon to follow, is climbing the literary charts with its recipe of action and spit-milk-through-your-nose comedy.

But Joe’s success isn’t what makes him unique. It is his understanding of print vs digital:
“By stating they won't ever give up print books, print aficionados are giving value to the journey. The act of turning pages, the smell of paper, seems to be just as enjoyable as the story itself. I don't buy it.”

Joe used the printed publishing industry as a stepping stone to break into the digital world where he's hit the #1 Kindle best seller spot, and six of his e-novels are amongst the top 1000. He's currently selling over 150 ebooks per day. In February 2010 alone, Joe’s e-sales topped $3400.

“The Internet is permanent. Your digital name on digital paper (the world wide web) works twice. First, it works for those who see it when it happens. Next, it works for those who see it weeks, months, or years after it happened.”

And getting his name out there is working for him. To that end he offers several of his pieces free, such as “Serial.”

“I wrote TRUCK STOP specifically for Kindle. And I had an insidious reason for doing so. TRUCK STOP is a Jack Daniels novella. It is basically a gateway drug. Those who read SERIAL for free, or TRUCK STOP for $1.99, will often go on to read AFRAID and the entire Jack Daniels series. TRUCK STOP is a fun story, with some thrills and laughs, but its ultimate goal is to lead people to more of my writing.”
Visit Joe’s web site at jakonrath.com.


Q) What was the defining moment or event that sparked your desire to become a published author?

A) When I was nine years old I read my first mystery, by Robert B. Parker. I've been paying homage to his writing ever since. "Homage" is a French word, meaning "ripping off."

Q) How do you believe the advent of e-books will affect the traditional community library?

A) Ebooks and audiobooks are already being lent out to patrons at libraries around Chicagoland, and I assume this is happening elsewhere and will continue to gain momentum. Libraries will always be hubs of the community; places to gather and study and borrow media, whether it be print or digital.

Q) Have you considered creating your own e-publishing/distribution company, given your command of that media?

A) Happily, I'm too busy writing at the moment. But there's a goldmine there, for those who are interested.

Q) JA Konrath, Jack Kilborn, and Joe Kimball, all pen names of yours, have unique voices in their respective genres. Do these personalities ever conflict with each other?

A) Very often. In fact, my wife got mad at me last weekend for drinking too much, but I explained that wasn't me, it was Jack Kilborn. That Kilborn guy is a real troublemaker.

Q) What advice can you give to a struggling writer trying to become published?

A) I acquired more than five hundred rejections before I landed a publishing deal. But I kept writing and kept trying, even though I had to write ten novels before I was able to sell one. There's a word for a writer who never gives up... published.

Sam Reaves - Mystery/Suspense/Crime Author

I first became acquainted with Mr. Reaves' work when I was looking to read a 'local' author. Checked out his web site, http://www.samreaves.com/ , posted a response on one of his blogs, and he emailed me. Yeah. Imagine that. He's not only human, but a good guy not afraid to reach out to fans.

Since then we've exchange an email now and then and met up at Murder and Mayhem in Muskego (Wisconsin).

And, yes, I am a fan. I read Mean Town Blues as it was his latest and followed up that read with Dooley's Back. Both books are outstandingly well-written and books I will read again - I enjoyed them that much.

So check him out! Sam will appreciate it, and if you let him know you bought one of his books, he'll actually thank you. And you'll get to read a great book!

Barbara Sheridan - Award Winning Author

If you're not familiar with Barbara Sheridan's work, you need to be.

No one has ever written down the true recipe it takes to become a "good" author, and what "is good" is constantly debated and argued about over lattes at center tables in neighborhood bistros so people at the surrounding tables will know those so engaged in conversation are learned and worldly.

The one constant they will always have to shrug their shoulders in agreement on is that Barbara is a part of anyone's list of what comprises "good."
Add to this mix that "good" is the literary critics' term for "Where the hell did she get all that talent?"

Find that answer out for yourself.
http://www.barbarasheridan.com/

The Winter 2010 Issue of "Calliope" is Now Available

In this latest edition of "Calliope" the reader will find my short fiction piece, "Love and Crescendium," listed as an award winner.

http://www.calliopewriters.org/

The story itself will be published in the Spring 2010 issue.

Yes, I'm stoked. "Love and Crescendium" is my first story to win an award sponsored by a nationally published magazine, let alone the magazine of American Mensa, Ltd.

If anyone submits a story to them, tell Sandy, the fiction editor, I said "Hi."

The Best Worst Opening Chapter I Will Ever Write

Present Day
Odessa, Ukraine

I don’t like hairy armpits. I really don’t. I don’t know why. It wasn’t something I asked to find objectionable. When I was sliding down the birth canal and handed my sack of genes, no one asked my armpit preference. Had they proffered such a request I think I should have placed an order for a spoonful of ‘moderate toleration.’ Moderate over minimal is always more preferable as one never knows in what country one might be spewed out of the vagina into.

In my case, having been denied the grace of compassion for those with pits adorned with grape vines, I was fortunate enough to be born in the States where most of the female members of acceptable society - certainly not all anymore unfortunately, and certainly not the majority of the men as the advent of the tank top t-shirt so unfortunately reveals - routinely and thankfully shave. God bless them.

That is the United States of America that I am referring to. I clarify that now for those who are cognizant that other nations are also comprised of states, which may or may not be so united, but still must depend upon a central government nonetheless for their fortitude.

One would think it odd, and I admit, I am of that persuasion, that given such a predetermined repulsion to unshaven pits, that I would be drawn to those of Vlad - ‘Vlad Pit’ as I have anointed him. Though, admittedly, never when I thought he could hear. Vlad is not one given to humor and I have doubt as to his capability to understand sarcasm, even at the most shallow of levels.

It is not that I am attracted to the armpits or any other slope, curve, or protuberance of the male genus. To fully explain the curiosity and revelry that those pits inspire, I suspect one would actually have to be within viewing range of the young man when he lifts his arms, as he is so prone to do, and shares with the voyeur within us all his flaxen shafts of hair. The animal magnetism of those magnificent fields of golden fluff is that they are not his by birth. Vlad, for some reason that I certainly could never fathom, created or, I believe, had created for him, as I do not suspect him to posses the skills of the craftsman required to manufacture such an exquisite example, wears armpit wigs. True as a cat in heat in an alley. The mounds of silken sunshine are not the fruit of his body.

I requested my landlady, Nadia, a sordid tart of questionable past, with her own prime example of unshavenry – I am prone, at times, to utilize the vocabulary that Webster has yet to discover, and, as I am not an educated man, yet with a semblance, or at a minimum, a shadow of intelligence, shall, almost as often, willfully fail to interject the proper word or terminology, choosing instead a declaration that I enjoy the sound of; the way it rolls from the tongue and embraces my palate - instruct me how to ask for the name of the gifted individual who had mastered this heretofore unknown art so that I might… I’m still not sure what I ‘might’ with such information, but it felt like it was some bit of obscurity – a future trivia question perhaps? - I needed to know, thusly, to impress those not so informed, and thereby gain an advantage during an eve of embarrassingly trivial trivia in the hopeful expectation one of the maids might be so inspired as to be inclined to drop to her knees and polish my scepter with Revlon lips while her less than shining knight was otherwise occupied.

Still, in my mind, given the feeling of nausea when such exhibitions occur within my line of sight, it may have been solely for the purpose of removing such an adeptly skilled individual from this world of the living, though as I bespoke, I remain quite undecided. I have no doubt that eye color would have played an integral role in the final decision. Or shoe size.

Examine the ape that Darwin contends we as human beings are descended from. Had the oaf truly and accurately studied the creatures, he most assuredly would have declared his premise to be flawed. The ape has hairless pits, thereby outranking us on the primal ladder. It may be the ape has descended from man as it obviously is far more advanced, physiologically speaking. I have yet to meet a man who could champion an arm wrestling contest against a chimpanzee a third of his stature.

And with my aforementioned disdain for the woolen crop some fail to sheer, one might find it even more obscure that I have resided for the last several weeks in Ukraine, well known as a vestige for many of the most beautiful women in the world who are not aware that the glistening, sweaty strands peeking out from under their sleek and, I mention here, hairless arms, does not an erection stimulate for one such as I.

But therein lies my ego – that I should even embrace the errant perception that any of these ladies would be attracted to a forty-six year old American with pouched belly, declining health which I do not admit to anyone, thinning hair, though I take undeserved pride that most of it anyway is still atop my head, and a moderately acceptable income as an author of literary tales of tolerably lazy suspense and liquefied mayhem. Still, they, one in reality, are, is, the reason I sojourned here, though definitely not the reason I remain.

The reason I remain here, a mono-languaged weed amongst perfumed flowers capable of speech in not only Russian and Ukrainian, but also passable communicative segments of English and or German as well, is complicated. The government customs officials put it in much more succinct, simplistic terms when I attempted to depart of my own accord and escape home to my nation of birth: “You have no passport. No passport. No exit.”

And so here I am in Odessa, which also requires explanation, as my attempted port of departure, and the abode of Svetlana, the angelic persona for whom I Marco Poloed to the other side of the world to bask in her splendor, is Kiev. Be rest assured that that is the abrupt, cliff notes version. The long version consists of trying to explain to disdainful authority figures the location my passport was discovered to be in repose. The longer version still is what I have to do to get it back. Or preferably, one that belonged to someone else now incapable of such possession and my photo shall replace theirs so I might embark upon a plane and leave this land of braided pits, as it has become somewhat evidentiary – I prefer that melodious term to the cardboard sound of “evident” - that my own government has formulated the opinion that it might be more conducive to their own devices that I no longer walk the paths of my New England ancestors.

And so I came here on this less than glorious morning - the air is as heavy as an anvil and the stench of dead fish floating atop the pollution of the Black Sea has elected to entertain my olfactory sense, though the leaking diesel fuel from a freighter in port may be considered a viable contender for the odiferously-pungent award of the day - to the Richelieu steps, known to vintage movie aficionados and Ukrainians still adrift in the vestiges of the Soviet era as the misnomered Potemkin Stairs to meet with Vlad Pit as instructed. It is not the first time, as otherwise I might not have known of the tremendous bounty to be found under his arms.

Unfortunately for us both, today he is not displaying those mounds of spun straw. A major disappointment for me, but I dare say, a disastrous dilemma for him, as Vlad cannot raise his arms to display that which he has invested in as miserly as Americans invest in IRAs, for Vlad I do believe is amongst the unexpectedly departed. The trickle of blood from his left ear, dribbling below his mirrored sunglasses, down his pimpled throat, and staining the lime green tank top he is attired in to signal that it is safe for me to approach – alas, poor Vlad, might he have been color blind? – has provided me with a most obvious clue, while his termination appears oblivious to those traversing the one-hundred ninety-two steps past the deceased young man - I employ the funicular when it is operable, which of course today it has chosen not to be - that all is not well, and that I shall never again enjoy the vision of his armpit coiffeur.

I should have asked for the manufacturer’s name sooner, as now, I must confess, regrettably, the artisan shall no doubt continue in his or her repugnant enterprise until I, unsuspectingly to us both, stumble upon his… or her… habitat and release his… or her… soul from this earth.

I mean, what the hell? It wouldn’t be the first gullet I’ve gashed since I’ve been marooned here. But I digress…

"When Pretzels Bite Back" - My current work in progress

He thought it odd she didn’t want him to undress while he banged her, but it was free, so what the hell. Who knew what went through the minds of whores? Especially the black ones.

She’d insisted on him climbing on top of her fully clothed. The horny bitch had hiked up her blue sequined dress revealing the unclad young snatch underneath. He’d arched his back so she could unbuckle his belt, unzip his pants, and push them down just far enough so he could shove his plumper into her. She was dry, but he’d put some ointment on any raw skin when he was done with her.

“Baby. Oh, baby. That’s the spot,” she finally purred, pushing her heels into the leather of the divan’s cushions, lifting her pelvis upwards.

Smiling, he closed his eyes and slammed it into her as hard as he thought he needed to. He could feel the stirring in his groin. It wouldn’t be long now. All he’d required to push him over the edge was to hear her moan, to know that he was leaving an impression with her of his sexual prowess.

Sweat beaded above his salt and pepper singular eyebrow and ran down his pocked nose, dripping like a leaky faucet down onto her. He could feel his juices moving now, preparing to explode into her.

“Give it to me,” a growl crawled from her throat. “Give it to me as hard as you can. Rip me up, baby. Tear me apart. Do it! Harder!”

He rammed it into her with everything he had. Thrusting his hips back and forth, his heart was pounding against his chest like a blacksmith’s hammer on an anvil as he felt his eyes rolling back under his closed lids.

The thought flashed across his mind that maybe the exertion on his aging body wasn’t worth the effort. But he pushed it aside. The young ones weren’t availing themselves to him nearly as often as they used to. In business, food, and sex… never squander an opportunity to feast. Never leave the table unsatisfied.

“Open your eyes, baby. I want to see your eyes when you come in me.”

Obediently he willed the heavy lids open, vacuuming air into his overworked lungs as he readied himself for the pleasure of another orgasm, another meaningless conquest, another dark chocolate cunt screwed. Glancing down to have the satisfaction of watching her as he came, it wasn’t the pursed mouth begging for his cum that he expected. It was a can of pepper spray.

"The Last Knight of Camelot" Opening Chapter

January 2010
From the comfort of the La-Z-Boy recliner in his suburban Nashville living room Gerhardt Heinreich could enjoy the bounties of his collecting safaris through malls, side street dens of antiquities, and Internet interludes. Across the room on the ash mantle above the Mexican stone fireplace were his most cherished pieces; the Freidag steamship with 85% original paint; a Hubley clockwork “Say It With Flowers” delivery motorcycle – a similar one had recently sold at auction for $75,000; a 1920’s Arcade Andy Gump Roadster; and his favorite, though by far one of the least costly and least intricate members of the vast collection – an Arcade free-swinging pendulum clock bank. But all of the locally crafted oak china cabinets harboring his other toys were now obscured by stacks of blue plastic tubs filled with reports and memos he had been intently reading and rereading for the last several months.

Tomorrow an auctioneer would arrive to pack and haul away his cast iron and tin family. The auction’s proceeds were to be evenly divided amongst the orphanages in Nashville. Heinreich had personally contacted each one to ensure a representative would be in attendance to accept their fair share of the cash contribution at the conclusion of the sale. There was only one man in the world Heinreich trusted, and it wasn’t the lemon-voiced auctioneer.

Balancing the bolt action Carcano rifle with Simmons scope across one massive open palm the size of a small banana leaf, he silently apologized to the gleaming weapon with flawless blued steel and beeswax polished stock for keeping her hidden beneath the floorboards for so many years. This would be their final adventure together. Time and arthritis had caught up to him. Placing the last three brown pills onto his tongue from an amber bottle on the lamp table beside him, he threw his head back, swallowing them dry. In twenty minutes he would be able to move his curling disfigured fingers again without resistance. Six months ago the freedom of movement had only required one such medical miracle.

After the toys were gone he would torch his home in order to vaporize the papers James Livingston had been sending him for decades. For the scientist was now dead – murdered. And in a few months the visage of Gerhardt Heinreich would disappear forever. The only question yet to be answered was how many lives would be lost before that event occurred.

Rotating the rifle so the hand-checkered butt was on his right thigh, the octogenarian massaged the erect weapon with his gaze. “One last time, Cherie, make love to me,” he throatily purred, gently stroking the steel uvula of his loyal mistress.

Did You Vote?

I did.
If you didn't, why not?
If you did, thank you.
If you didn't, shame on you.

Many believe our democracy is broken.
If we do not continue to vote all we do is provide the means for our government to continue doing that which you or I may be opposed to.

Voting truly is our 'report card' of how we believe our elected officials are doing.

I'm one of those who will listen to anyone who votes. No matter how far apart our ideas may be, I will listen to you.
If you do not vote, if you do not take responsibilty, I don't have time for you. You're just a whiner and complainer who wants to blame everyone else when the truth is... you are the problem. By not voting, you sanction the actions of those elected.

Step away from the computer, get off your butt, and vote!