Hacked to death

As a newspaper editor, I've had occasion to peruse a decent amount of self-published works. I can tell you this: Most of them are self published for a reason.

Now, no less an author than Edgar Allen Poe has taken the self-publishing route. But, with the obvious benefits of hindsight, he was pretty damn good. Admittedly, the publishing biz isn't doing good biz right now. I harbor no ill will to those who self publish, nor do look down upon them. In today's world, they are a bit of a revolutionary, I think.

But getting back to the original point: Most are self-published for a reason. Say what you want about publishing biz problems, and stock subject books with unoriginal, copy cat plotting, but if you read a bit of self-published work, you'll start to see that there plenty of good reasons lots of those books aren't getting through. Writing isn't hard, necessarily; writing well is.

What always struck me about these self-published books is how obviously bad they were. The authors either had an obvious axe to grind and either were just piss-poor at hiding it or didn't care to hide it, or just weren't great writers. And I'm not suggesting they had to be the next Hemingway. The next Hemingsomeguy would have been fine. I've read my fair share of what I would call "mediocre" novels published by publishing houses. Its one of the ironies of the biz that its nearly impossible to get published, and that good authors regularly struggle, while the industry goes on its merry way publishing some very tepid stuff. Works that are instantly forgettable and not especially well written, well plotted or well charactered.

It's the lack of self awareness that worries me. These guys obviously either were so egotistical that they thought publishing would win them accolades, or they just didn't realize that their works didn't even compare to the mediocre stuff out there.

That is my fear: I don't want to spending all this time doing all this work (both of which I have a love-hate relationship with anyway), all while the end product is just so obviously bad. If I can't get published, I can't get published, I just don't want to be so bad its obvious to everyone but me.

PS - I'm not doing Nano, but I'm going to use the month to sketch out and structure "Slide", my next novel, and edit Falsely Accused.

PS - stay tuned for updates all this week!

The plan for the future

Despite the fact that November will be smack in the middle of football season, the holidays, my new volunteer activity and probably the completion of the bedroom remodel, I was recently inspired to at least start planning to participate in Nano.

Of course, I planned to participate two years ago, as well.

But this time I have an actual, honest to goodness story brewing. One of the two or three ideas worming its way through my head. At any given time one or the other is in the lead in taking form from mere ether into a somewhat solid shape.

Of late, one particular idea has taken the lead and not let go. It stems from recent admiration of science fiction writing. I've also been enamored lately with "what ifs;" as in, what if X wasn't necassary, or didn't happen. Nothing so grand as in "what if Hitler was killed as a child," but... what if our preconcieved ideas of roads and buildings and society weren't so preconcieved.

In my story, a former mining town laboring under the weight of past misteps and its own policies and history allows a sparsely populated, left-for-dead district to start fresh, free from any existing structure or policy. The experiment lasts 50 years, at which time the two areas vote on whether to rejoin each other.

The book picks up at the run up to the vote, at a time when both sides are suspect of the other, extremely xenophobic and antagonistic to each other, and anxious about what the election will mean for them and their way of life. The entire thing is thrown into disarray when a mud slide buries large parts of the town.

That's two moving story lines. Throw in a love triangle, a possible murder and some individuals dealing with personal growth and I think I've got a novel.