Jon Etheredge's Blog
September 14, 2013
September 4, 2013
Published!
"Dream Talker" has been picked up by Pen-L Publishing for release in 2014! One of the top editors in the country, Duke Pennel picked up the tab for lunch last month, an eye-to-eye meeting I insisted upon. By the end of the meal, I was convinced that his business model was a good fit for me.
No BS. No rainbows. No advance. No reprieve from hard work. No unrealistic expectations.
"Why did you write this book?" he asked me. I told him that the only pursuits worthy of human endeavor are perfection and immortality...and one of these can never be achieved, so I write.
After lunch, I returned to Mississippi along the same eight-hour route originally mapped for me by Google, but unfortunately I was unable to avoid a head-on collision with Little Rock, Arkansas at rush hour in the middle of a sky-blackening thunder boomer.
My GPS kept telling me to turn around and go back, so I unplugged it and threw it on the car floor and stomped it until it was dead, dead, dead.
In retrospect, I should have simply turned it off.
Fourteen hours later, I was home. I wrote to Duke Pennel and told him I would not be able to return to Fayetteville unless God smote Little Rock into pillars of salt and opened the Earth to swallow it whole.
Or I could go around.
=========
Watch for freebies! "Abigail Dare", "Reaching Deep", and "The Incredibly Normal Adventures of Roosterboots" will soon have FREE DAYS!
No BS. No rainbows. No advance. No reprieve from hard work. No unrealistic expectations.
"Why did you write this book?" he asked me. I told him that the only pursuits worthy of human endeavor are perfection and immortality...and one of these can never be achieved, so I write.
After lunch, I returned to Mississippi along the same eight-hour route originally mapped for me by Google, but unfortunately I was unable to avoid a head-on collision with Little Rock, Arkansas at rush hour in the middle of a sky-blackening thunder boomer.
My GPS kept telling me to turn around and go back, so I unplugged it and threw it on the car floor and stomped it until it was dead, dead, dead.
In retrospect, I should have simply turned it off.
Fourteen hours later, I was home. I wrote to Duke Pennel and told him I would not be able to return to Fayetteville unless God smote Little Rock into pillars of salt and opened the Earth to swallow it whole.
Or I could go around.
=========
Watch for freebies! "Abigail Dare", "Reaching Deep", and "The Incredibly Normal Adventures of Roosterboots" will soon have FREE DAYS!
March 14, 2013
The Caper
My wife asked me how old I was when I learned the lesson about stealing being bad. The year was 1957. I was brash. I was bold. I was six.
Compared to other first-graders, I suppose my moral compass needed lubrication. Its rusty pointer found nothing to fault in my decision to steal fifty big ones from my mother's open purse and go on a spending spree.
Two blocks down the hill from our house in Raleigh was The Store. History long ago lost its actual name, but everybody who lived on Drury Lane in 1957 knows that fifty cents went a long way at The Store.
A six-year old pickpocket with two purloined quarters and free run of the neighborhood was a lost soul waiting for Satan. I was foundering in a Faustian dilemma. I didn't want to spend the money. I was going to put it back. Or donate it to an orphan's charity.
And then I saw the freshly-opened display box of individually wrapped bite-size peanut butter logs. I could do great things with fifty of those. Advances in the fields of nutrition, medicine, physics, and science were at my fingertips. I could buy world peace. The orphans would simply have to wait their selfish little turn.
I had never held so many peanut butter logs in my hands before. It was surreal. I had riches beyond comprehension in a wrinkled brown paper sack...two blocks from home.
But I could never go home again. Not with that overstuffed bag of peanut butter logs in my sweaty little hands. Mother would immediately know I had stolen the money.
I needed a 'Plan B'. When I finally worked out the details, even I was impressed. My plan was brilliant. It was foolproof.
I started eating as fast as I could. I slit the wrappers open and popped the little treats into my mouth one at a time. Then two at a time.
I ran out of spit on the seventh peanut butter log. My tongue was stuck in the full UP position. I needed water, and water was at home, a place I'd have to avoid while the scandal cooled off.
I'd never see home again, unless I had a plausible reason for being in possession of fifty minus seven individually wrapped bite-size peanut butter logs.
I couldn't lie to Mother. I could steal and disobey and ruin my appetite, but she always knew when her sons were lying. Retribution would be immediate and too horrifying to imagine.
I needed a 'Plan C'.
I was blinded by the magnificence of my own solution. Running out of time, I rolled the bag tighter and tossed it on the ground. Then I covered it with dirt and leaves.
There was no turning back, now. I walked away ten or twelve steps, then sped back to the last place I had seen the bag. I hadn't completely covered it, so it was easy to dig up.
I went home, triumphant, invulnerable. I didn't even need to hide the bag. Mother spotted it immediately and started in on me.
"What'cha got in th' bag, Jon-Jon?"
"Sumpin'," I said.
"Lemme see." No problem. I handed over the bag and grinned as she inspected the treasure within. Plan 'C' was in full motion. I knew what was coming next.
"Where did you get this?"
Plan C was working great! She was about to be checkmated and she'd have to give me back my bag of peanut butter logs, to boot. All I had to do was to tell her the truth.
"I found it in the woods. I dug it up."
"WHAT? You didn't eat any of these, did you? Tell me you didn't eat any." She was upset. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to give me my bag of candy and go back to making dinner.
The plan was unraveling. It was bursting into flames at Lakehurst. It was going down without enough life boats.
"How many did you eat?"
"Seven."
"Oh, God...stay right there. I'll call the doctor - oh, I hope they're not poisoned. No. No, I'll call the police. They'll know what to do."
She was panicking. This wasn't checkmate, not even close. I never anticipated her next question.
"What woods?"
What I carry today is not so much a scar as it is a memorandum burnished onto human flesh by a leather strap energetically wielded against my six-year old blue jeans. I can still feel every letter of my reprimand.
"Don't eat candy you found in the woods!"
"There aren't any woods around here!"
"Don't steal from your mother!"
"Don't lie!"
"Start eating."
Compared to other first-graders, I suppose my moral compass needed lubrication. Its rusty pointer found nothing to fault in my decision to steal fifty big ones from my mother's open purse and go on a spending spree.
Two blocks down the hill from our house in Raleigh was The Store. History long ago lost its actual name, but everybody who lived on Drury Lane in 1957 knows that fifty cents went a long way at The Store.
A six-year old pickpocket with two purloined quarters and free run of the neighborhood was a lost soul waiting for Satan. I was foundering in a Faustian dilemma. I didn't want to spend the money. I was going to put it back. Or donate it to an orphan's charity.
And then I saw the freshly-opened display box of individually wrapped bite-size peanut butter logs. I could do great things with fifty of those. Advances in the fields of nutrition, medicine, physics, and science were at my fingertips. I could buy world peace. The orphans would simply have to wait their selfish little turn.
I had never held so many peanut butter logs in my hands before. It was surreal. I had riches beyond comprehension in a wrinkled brown paper sack...two blocks from home.
But I could never go home again. Not with that overstuffed bag of peanut butter logs in my sweaty little hands. Mother would immediately know I had stolen the money.
I needed a 'Plan B'. When I finally worked out the details, even I was impressed. My plan was brilliant. It was foolproof.
I started eating as fast as I could. I slit the wrappers open and popped the little treats into my mouth one at a time. Then two at a time.
I ran out of spit on the seventh peanut butter log. My tongue was stuck in the full UP position. I needed water, and water was at home, a place I'd have to avoid while the scandal cooled off.
I'd never see home again, unless I had a plausible reason for being in possession of fifty minus seven individually wrapped bite-size peanut butter logs.
I couldn't lie to Mother. I could steal and disobey and ruin my appetite, but she always knew when her sons were lying. Retribution would be immediate and too horrifying to imagine.
I needed a 'Plan C'.
I was blinded by the magnificence of my own solution. Running out of time, I rolled the bag tighter and tossed it on the ground. Then I covered it with dirt and leaves.
There was no turning back, now. I walked away ten or twelve steps, then sped back to the last place I had seen the bag. I hadn't completely covered it, so it was easy to dig up.
I went home, triumphant, invulnerable. I didn't even need to hide the bag. Mother spotted it immediately and started in on me.
"What'cha got in th' bag, Jon-Jon?"
"Sumpin'," I said.
"Lemme see." No problem. I handed over the bag and grinned as she inspected the treasure within. Plan 'C' was in full motion. I knew what was coming next.
"Where did you get this?"
Plan C was working great! She was about to be checkmated and she'd have to give me back my bag of peanut butter logs, to boot. All I had to do was to tell her the truth.
"I found it in the woods. I dug it up."
"WHAT? You didn't eat any of these, did you? Tell me you didn't eat any." She was upset. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to give me my bag of candy and go back to making dinner.
The plan was unraveling. It was bursting into flames at Lakehurst. It was going down without enough life boats.
"How many did you eat?"
"Seven."
"Oh, God...stay right there. I'll call the doctor - oh, I hope they're not poisoned. No. No, I'll call the police. They'll know what to do."
She was panicking. This wasn't checkmate, not even close. I never anticipated her next question.
"What woods?"
What I carry today is not so much a scar as it is a memorandum burnished onto human flesh by a leather strap energetically wielded against my six-year old blue jeans. I can still feel every letter of my reprimand.
"Don't eat candy you found in the woods!"
"There aren't any woods around here!"
"Don't steal from your mother!"
"Don't lie!"
"Start eating."
February 22, 2013
Real Publishing (part 2)
LESSONS LEARNED
1. Just when you think you're finally ready to send out a manuscript, you will discover a book that tells you how to REALLY submit your work. Make time for a fifth draft.
2. Outline the plot, then write the story, then outline what you've written. Maybe it's just me, but the chapter-by-chapter outline that nobody ever asks to see made the story much more cohesive.
3. Turn change tracking OFF before you build a .MOBI file.
4. Pay someone to read your entire book to you out loud. Friends and family will do this for free and they'll do it wrong. I pay $0.50 a page, plus dinner. About all you can tolerate is fifty or sixty pages at a sitting, so plan to take a week or two. Swear your reader to secrecy, have the TV turned off, and remember that the spouses will want to sit in the same room and gossip loudly. Kick 'em out!
5. Pay your taxes before you send anything out to Kirkus or an editor. Then when you see how much it's going to cost, you won't panic.
6. If you use money you got from Mommy, Daddy, Sugardaddy, or Spouse, you should be able to hire the best help in the world to clean up the plot, polish the storyline, ghost write, illustrate, format, put your name on it and take an agent or publisher to lunch. If you do this, we will talk about you behind your back.
Jon
1. Just when you think you're finally ready to send out a manuscript, you will discover a book that tells you how to REALLY submit your work. Make time for a fifth draft.
2. Outline the plot, then write the story, then outline what you've written. Maybe it's just me, but the chapter-by-chapter outline that nobody ever asks to see made the story much more cohesive.
3. Turn change tracking OFF before you build a .MOBI file.
4. Pay someone to read your entire book to you out loud. Friends and family will do this for free and they'll do it wrong. I pay $0.50 a page, plus dinner. About all you can tolerate is fifty or sixty pages at a sitting, so plan to take a week or two. Swear your reader to secrecy, have the TV turned off, and remember that the spouses will want to sit in the same room and gossip loudly. Kick 'em out!
5. Pay your taxes before you send anything out to Kirkus or an editor. Then when you see how much it's going to cost, you won't panic.
6. If you use money you got from Mommy, Daddy, Sugardaddy, or Spouse, you should be able to hire the best help in the world to clean up the plot, polish the storyline, ghost write, illustrate, format, put your name on it and take an agent or publisher to lunch. If you do this, we will talk about you behind your back.
Jon
February 17, 2013
Real Publishing...Really!
As I worked on my next book, the old book ("Abigail Dare") called to me, a shrill harpie demanding corrections and rewrites and second editions. Ahh, the joys of self-publishing.
I officially finished the new book "Dream Talker" in February 2012. Searching for an editor, I had the great good fortune of finding ten. The eighth draft was ready to go to press in July.
Then I paid for a critique from Barbara Rogan. "Good first draft," she said. Heartless...oh, and she's been right so far.
She actually bought a copy of "Abigail Dare" to read and review. I was expecting a scene from "Christmas Story" (A plus plus plus plus plus). Instead, all I heard was the thud of the book hitting the back of the waste basket. (Barbara - if I'm wrong, I shouldn't be)
A rewrite of "Abigail Dare" was in order. As long as I was at it, I sliced and diced four of my favorite short stories and rearranged them into a small compendium. Having put it off for two months, I went back to work on "Dream Talker in October.
Eventually, I finished the corrections and enhancements enough to declare it DONE and done. I did that this morning, happily sending a .PDF and a .MOBI to a friend in California, one day before I noticed an editorial note smack dab in the middle of Chapter 28. I hope she doesn't notice.
I bought a copy of "Formatting and Submitting your Manuscript" (3rd edition) and "Writer's Marketplace".
Yes, my skeptical sycophants, I did break down and buy a couple of books on doing the traditional publishing thing. Both books on publishing were sitting on the same shelf as "Do Your Own Divorce". Hmmmm.
WHAT I'M GETTING READY TO DO
I'm going to find a real publisher for "Dream Talker". Or an agent. Or a cheap editor. Better yet, a fairy godmother (FGM).
The FGM will tell me how great and wonderful I am, hook me up with Harper Collins, sign me to a movie deal, and make me handsome and popular.
What I need now is a plan.
==================================
Oooooh-KAY! A month later, I figure out the reason nobody reads this post. It's because I didn't know how to use the "edit" link. Herewith, the rest of this post will contain those pertinent remarks I formerly added as comments.
=================================
Jan 5, 2013
FIRST THINGS FIRST
I need a checklist. That's what I'll do today. I'll make me a checklist. Let's see:
[ ] Write the query "hook"
[ ] Write a real biography
[ ] Write a generic query letter
[ ] Write an electronic generic query letter
[ ] Put manuscript in correct format
[ ] Write the chapter outline
[ ] Get 3-5 creditable endorsements
[ ] Write the endorsements page
[ ] Find out what an "epigraph" is
[ ] Write the epigraph page
[ ] Short synopsis
[ ] Long synopsis
I need a mission statement. How's this:
"MISSION: Publish 'Dream Talker' through a conventional publishing house, or convince an agent to represent me in that quest. The mission must be accomplished within six months or I'll seriously consider self-publishing again (ghaag)."
The gagging sound is optional, in case you're reading this blog out loud.
=======================================
Jan 05, 2013 08:08am
THE QUERY HOOK
"Adrian Bishop didn’t believe the stories about a Cherokee shaman who could stop the rain. That is, not until he saw it for himself. When his girlfriend, Ella Stone, offers to take him to meet this medicine man, Amanita White Bear, things go bad. She ends up threatening Amanita to make him divulge the secret to stopping the rain. His body is discovered the next day and the rains begin in earnest. Her father suffers a nervous breakdown and is committed to a mental hospital. Adrian disappears suspiciously, and Ella learns Amanita has levied a curse that will kill everyone she loves. Now she must join forces with Henry Deer-in-the-Water, a mysterious Cherokee shopkeeper who knows far more than he should about Amanita’s curse. He has a plan that will save Ella’s family, but at a deadly cost."
Hmmm? I can already see changes I'll want to make. I'd better get busy with the biography.
========================================
=========================================
Jan 05, 2013 05:35pm
THE BIOGRAPHY
I have my choice of three:
#1 - I am a graduate of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. I have taught survival, investigated aircraft crashes, programmed computers, hunted embezzlers, and written one or two fantastic letters of complaint. I have also written technical manuals for the military and private industry, and published poetry and short stories in eRomance and eHumor magazines.
#2 - Born in Raleigh, North Carolina, I spent my high school years in Lima, Peru. I returned in 1968 to study psychology at the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill. After graduation, I entered the Navy and served as an Aerospace Physiologist until my retirement in 1993. Today, I write from a small tree farm in Neshoba County, Mississippi.
#3 (from eHumor magazine) - "Jon Etheredge is the end result of a youth wasted on the sandy beaches of Lima, Peru. He is a man without guile, without pretense, without ambition. His mold was cast in the fourth grade when his teacher, Mrs. Ebinotia Mummelsome wrote, 'John (sic) is failing to live up to his potential'. When asked to comment, Jon pushed aside the half-dozen or so empty longnecks and said that Mrs. Mummelsome could rot in hell."
I think I'll keep #1
=========================================
Jan 07, 2013 06:21pm
I'm slaving over the first draft of the synopsis right now (no...that's a lie...I'm cleaning the living room). I hope to take that draft and shrink it down to 2-3 pages for the short synopsis. Then I'll do the long synopsis (ten pages, maybe). Then I'll write the chapter outline and figure out how much rewriting is still required.
Ohh, all those movie deals, and here I am locked in the house and forced to clean the living room. I'll NEVER get discovered this way.
=========================================
Jan 10, 2013 05:54am
Jon Etheredge I'm still working on the long synopsis, I think. Something strange happened yesterday...the synopsis stopped making sense. There was something wrong with the plot development and I was only able to see the problem when I tried to boil down the story into the short form.
It shouldn't be too hard to fix the missing elements, so naturally I'm putting it off until I finish reformatting the manuscript. I know I'm avoiding the real work. I don't care.
Work is hard.
=========================================
Jan 20, 2013 10:30am
FINAL ULTIMATE LAST REWRITE IS DONE!
So last night, I sat at the keyboard and started to update the synopsis. Then I stopped.
It made more sense to write the chapter outline first. So I started formatting the pages and punching in bullet points.
Many a sleepless hour later, I am of the opinion that this process would go a lot smoother if I had a fairy godmother standing behind me telling me when I'm doing it right. Of course, that opens the window to being repeatedly smacked across the back of the head with a wand when I do stuff wrong. Just like my third grade penmanship teacher, Mrs. Prudence Rosethorn, used to do when I produced the occasional misshapen "S", except she used a Westcott R501 heavy duty 18" single-edge maple ruler to smack me across the knuckles. Why, for God's sake, would you hit my knuckles? I NEEDED them to make that perfect "S" you were hitting me for not writing. Half a century later, I'm still upset at that horrid old bag of Phit.
I need to go to Walmart.
=========================================
Feb 07, 2013 06:02pm
THE OUTLINE IS FINISHED!
I find it hard to believe how much impact the chapter-by-chapter outline made on the story. Tighter plot, deeper characters, improved structure...I can't tell you all the edges that were smoothed out.
Note to Self: Write outline first, then write story, then write chapter-by-chapter outline, then rewrite story, then write the synopses.
Somewhere in there, run a little program like TEXAND's "Heal-a-Doc". You can download a trial version for free. It analyzes your manuscript to find word frequencies, problematic words, cliches, and more features than I want to delve into at this point.
Next: The long synopsis (again!).
=========================================
Feb 13, 2013 10:24pm
THE LONG, LONG SYNOPSIS
I finally fleshed out my bullet points into a Gen-You-Whine long synopsis. "Hey, Honey! Wanna hear somethin' I wrote?"
"God, NO!" (sound of dogs barking. front door slams, trapping cartoon curly-lines in the jamb.)
Given to an intemperate disposition and graced by the Sovereign State of Mississippi with a concealed carry permit, my wife was reluctant to hear it again, and I was far too wise to press the issue. Instead, I read it to my cat, Peanut.
"You're having a continuity issue, aren't you?" he asked (although being a cat, he didn't phrase it as a question).
"What can I do about it?"
"uhrrrrr...try joining some of your sentences with articles or participles or something," he recommended, twisting around to nibble at an itchy spot just south of his bobtail. It was obvious to me that this cat was trying to bluff his way into the conversation. His command of the technicalities of English was, at best, sub par.
"Conjunctions?" I offered snidely.
"Nah," he said. "It's just an old hemorrhoid."
Lessons Learned:
1. Cats aren't as good at editing as they might want you to believe.
2. Never EVER kiss a cat.
=======================================
Feb 18, 2013 10:24pm
THE CHECKLIST REVISITED
[*] Write the query "hook"
[X] Write a real biography
[*] Write a generic query letter
[X] Put manuscript in correct format
[X] Write the chapter outline
[ ] Get 3-5 creditable endorsements
[ ] Write the endorsements page
[X] Find out what an "epigraph" is
[X] Write the epigraph page
[X] Short synopsis
[X] Long synopsis
So, today I'm going to update the query hook and draft a sample query letter. Then I have to clean up a plot problem in the manuscript (1 paragraph, maybe 2). Right now, I am re-reading "Formatting and Submitting Your Manuscript" to see whether I really need endorsements. Then, the hunt for an agent begins!
=======================================
Feb 21, 2013 6:44pm
'OOOOOOHHHH, NOOOOOOOO!'
- mr. bill
All the hard work was about to be worth it. I made a .MOBI and sideloaded the new book into my Kindle and took the wife to lunch at "City Limits" - an honest to goodness four-star restaurant in the middle of Philadelphia.
To drink, we ordered tea. She wanted unsweet. I ordered half-n-half (a Southernism for lightly sweetened tea). Hers was delivered without a straw, and within seconds of obtaining one, she discovered her glass had been filled with sweet tea.
I clamped my hands around her mouth the muffle the blasphemy. Here is a brief sample:
"Goodness gracious, that li'l ole waitress gave me sweet tea, bless her li'l heart."
(Translation: "I can't swallow this *DELETED*, it's *DELETED* vomit, *DELETED*, *DELETED* incompetent *DELETED*, gimme my gun, gimme my gun, where's that *DELETED* gonorrhea bullet?")
Now that she was in the mood, I popped the question - "Would you..."
"Yes."
"Would you please..."
"Yes!"
"...take this Kindle and read the first three pages of the book?"
I got that familiar, funny look. She mumbled something about a bullet, took the Kindle and in slightly more then seven seconds found a misspelling.
"What a nimrod!" she laughed.
The waitress heard one of her customers having a good time and came over to break it up. "Kin ah gitch'all sum moah tee?"
I was still a trifle parched, so I negotiated half a glass of unsweet. I had barely finished when the wife pointed at the glass and asked, "What's that?"
Stuck to the inside of my glass was a thin green membrane about 1/2" square.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Lettuce."
"Did you order lettuce?"
"No. Just roast beef and fries."
"Well, now you've had your greens."
I called the waitress over and explained how much effort it took to keep from involuntarily returning lunch for a refund.
She took the lettuce, put it back into the glass and walked off, saying, "Oh, wow."
"Honey? You still got that gonorrhea bullet?
I officially finished the new book "Dream Talker" in February 2012. Searching for an editor, I had the great good fortune of finding ten. The eighth draft was ready to go to press in July.
Then I paid for a critique from Barbara Rogan. "Good first draft," she said. Heartless...oh, and she's been right so far.
She actually bought a copy of "Abigail Dare" to read and review. I was expecting a scene from "Christmas Story" (A plus plus plus plus plus). Instead, all I heard was the thud of the book hitting the back of the waste basket. (Barbara - if I'm wrong, I shouldn't be)
A rewrite of "Abigail Dare" was in order. As long as I was at it, I sliced and diced four of my favorite short stories and rearranged them into a small compendium. Having put it off for two months, I went back to work on "Dream Talker in October.
Eventually, I finished the corrections and enhancements enough to declare it DONE and done. I did that this morning, happily sending a .PDF and a .MOBI to a friend in California, one day before I noticed an editorial note smack dab in the middle of Chapter 28. I hope she doesn't notice.
I bought a copy of "Formatting and Submitting your Manuscript" (3rd edition) and "Writer's Marketplace".
Yes, my skeptical sycophants, I did break down and buy a couple of books on doing the traditional publishing thing. Both books on publishing were sitting on the same shelf as "Do Your Own Divorce". Hmmmm.
WHAT I'M GETTING READY TO DO
I'm going to find a real publisher for "Dream Talker". Or an agent. Or a cheap editor. Better yet, a fairy godmother (FGM).
The FGM will tell me how great and wonderful I am, hook me up with Harper Collins, sign me to a movie deal, and make me handsome and popular.
What I need now is a plan.
==================================
Oooooh-KAY! A month later, I figure out the reason nobody reads this post. It's because I didn't know how to use the "edit" link. Herewith, the rest of this post will contain those pertinent remarks I formerly added as comments.
=================================
Jan 5, 2013
FIRST THINGS FIRST
I need a checklist. That's what I'll do today. I'll make me a checklist. Let's see:
[ ] Write the query "hook"
[ ] Write a real biography
[ ] Write a generic query letter
[ ] Write an electronic generic query letter
[ ] Put manuscript in correct format
[ ] Write the chapter outline
[ ] Get 3-5 creditable endorsements
[ ] Write the endorsements page
[ ] Find out what an "epigraph" is
[ ] Write the epigraph page
[ ] Short synopsis
[ ] Long synopsis
I need a mission statement. How's this:
"MISSION: Publish 'Dream Talker' through a conventional publishing house, or convince an agent to represent me in that quest. The mission must be accomplished within six months or I'll seriously consider self-publishing again (ghaag)."
The gagging sound is optional, in case you're reading this blog out loud.
=======================================
Jan 05, 2013 08:08am
THE QUERY HOOK
"Adrian Bishop didn’t believe the stories about a Cherokee shaman who could stop the rain. That is, not until he saw it for himself. When his girlfriend, Ella Stone, offers to take him to meet this medicine man, Amanita White Bear, things go bad. She ends up threatening Amanita to make him divulge the secret to stopping the rain. His body is discovered the next day and the rains begin in earnest. Her father suffers a nervous breakdown and is committed to a mental hospital. Adrian disappears suspiciously, and Ella learns Amanita has levied a curse that will kill everyone she loves. Now she must join forces with Henry Deer-in-the-Water, a mysterious Cherokee shopkeeper who knows far more than he should about Amanita’s curse. He has a plan that will save Ella’s family, but at a deadly cost."
Hmmm? I can already see changes I'll want to make. I'd better get busy with the biography.
========================================
=========================================
Jan 05, 2013 05:35pm
THE BIOGRAPHY
I have my choice of three:
#1 - I am a graduate of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. I have taught survival, investigated aircraft crashes, programmed computers, hunted embezzlers, and written one or two fantastic letters of complaint. I have also written technical manuals for the military and private industry, and published poetry and short stories in eRomance and eHumor magazines.
#2 - Born in Raleigh, North Carolina, I spent my high school years in Lima, Peru. I returned in 1968 to study psychology at the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill. After graduation, I entered the Navy and served as an Aerospace Physiologist until my retirement in 1993. Today, I write from a small tree farm in Neshoba County, Mississippi.
#3 (from eHumor magazine) - "Jon Etheredge is the end result of a youth wasted on the sandy beaches of Lima, Peru. He is a man without guile, without pretense, without ambition. His mold was cast in the fourth grade when his teacher, Mrs. Ebinotia Mummelsome wrote, 'John (sic) is failing to live up to his potential'. When asked to comment, Jon pushed aside the half-dozen or so empty longnecks and said that Mrs. Mummelsome could rot in hell."
I think I'll keep #1
=========================================
Jan 07, 2013 06:21pm
I'm slaving over the first draft of the synopsis right now (no...that's a lie...I'm cleaning the living room). I hope to take that draft and shrink it down to 2-3 pages for the short synopsis. Then I'll do the long synopsis (ten pages, maybe). Then I'll write the chapter outline and figure out how much rewriting is still required.
Ohh, all those movie deals, and here I am locked in the house and forced to clean the living room. I'll NEVER get discovered this way.
=========================================
Jan 10, 2013 05:54am
Jon Etheredge I'm still working on the long synopsis, I think. Something strange happened yesterday...the synopsis stopped making sense. There was something wrong with the plot development and I was only able to see the problem when I tried to boil down the story into the short form.
It shouldn't be too hard to fix the missing elements, so naturally I'm putting it off until I finish reformatting the manuscript. I know I'm avoiding the real work. I don't care.
Work is hard.
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Jan 20, 2013 10:30am
FINAL ULTIMATE LAST REWRITE IS DONE!
So last night, I sat at the keyboard and started to update the synopsis. Then I stopped.
It made more sense to write the chapter outline first. So I started formatting the pages and punching in bullet points.
Many a sleepless hour later, I am of the opinion that this process would go a lot smoother if I had a fairy godmother standing behind me telling me when I'm doing it right. Of course, that opens the window to being repeatedly smacked across the back of the head with a wand when I do stuff wrong. Just like my third grade penmanship teacher, Mrs. Prudence Rosethorn, used to do when I produced the occasional misshapen "S", except she used a Westcott R501 heavy duty 18" single-edge maple ruler to smack me across the knuckles. Why, for God's sake, would you hit my knuckles? I NEEDED them to make that perfect "S" you were hitting me for not writing. Half a century later, I'm still upset at that horrid old bag of Phit.
I need to go to Walmart.
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Feb 07, 2013 06:02pm
THE OUTLINE IS FINISHED!
I find it hard to believe how much impact the chapter-by-chapter outline made on the story. Tighter plot, deeper characters, improved structure...I can't tell you all the edges that were smoothed out.
Note to Self: Write outline first, then write story, then write chapter-by-chapter outline, then rewrite story, then write the synopses.
Somewhere in there, run a little program like TEXAND's "Heal-a-Doc". You can download a trial version for free. It analyzes your manuscript to find word frequencies, problematic words, cliches, and more features than I want to delve into at this point.
Next: The long synopsis (again!).
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Feb 13, 2013 10:24pm
THE LONG, LONG SYNOPSIS
I finally fleshed out my bullet points into a Gen-You-Whine long synopsis. "Hey, Honey! Wanna hear somethin' I wrote?"
"God, NO!" (sound of dogs barking. front door slams, trapping cartoon curly-lines in the jamb.)
Given to an intemperate disposition and graced by the Sovereign State of Mississippi with a concealed carry permit, my wife was reluctant to hear it again, and I was far too wise to press the issue. Instead, I read it to my cat, Peanut.
"You're having a continuity issue, aren't you?" he asked (although being a cat, he didn't phrase it as a question).
"What can I do about it?"
"uhrrrrr...try joining some of your sentences with articles or participles or something," he recommended, twisting around to nibble at an itchy spot just south of his bobtail. It was obvious to me that this cat was trying to bluff his way into the conversation. His command of the technicalities of English was, at best, sub par.
"Conjunctions?" I offered snidely.
"Nah," he said. "It's just an old hemorrhoid."
Lessons Learned:
1. Cats aren't as good at editing as they might want you to believe.
2. Never EVER kiss a cat.
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Feb 18, 2013 10:24pm
THE CHECKLIST REVISITED
[*] Write the query "hook"
[X] Write a real biography
[*] Write a generic query letter
[X] Put manuscript in correct format
[X] Write the chapter outline
[ ] Get 3-5 creditable endorsements
[ ] Write the endorsements page
[X] Find out what an "epigraph" is
[X] Write the epigraph page
[X] Short synopsis
[X] Long synopsis
So, today I'm going to update the query hook and draft a sample query letter. Then I have to clean up a plot problem in the manuscript (1 paragraph, maybe 2). Right now, I am re-reading "Formatting and Submitting Your Manuscript" to see whether I really need endorsements. Then, the hunt for an agent begins!
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Feb 21, 2013 6:44pm
'OOOOOOHHHH, NOOOOOOOO!'
- mr. bill
All the hard work was about to be worth it. I made a .MOBI and sideloaded the new book into my Kindle and took the wife to lunch at "City Limits" - an honest to goodness four-star restaurant in the middle of Philadelphia.
To drink, we ordered tea. She wanted unsweet. I ordered half-n-half (a Southernism for lightly sweetened tea). Hers was delivered without a straw, and within seconds of obtaining one, she discovered her glass had been filled with sweet tea.
I clamped my hands around her mouth the muffle the blasphemy. Here is a brief sample:
"Goodness gracious, that li'l ole waitress gave me sweet tea, bless her li'l heart."
(Translation: "I can't swallow this *DELETED*, it's *DELETED* vomit, *DELETED*, *DELETED* incompetent *DELETED*, gimme my gun, gimme my gun, where's that *DELETED* gonorrhea bullet?")
Now that she was in the mood, I popped the question - "Would you..."
"Yes."
"Would you please..."
"Yes!"
"...take this Kindle and read the first three pages of the book?"
I got that familiar, funny look. She mumbled something about a bullet, took the Kindle and in slightly more then seven seconds found a misspelling.
"What a nimrod!" she laughed.
The waitress heard one of her customers having a good time and came over to break it up. "Kin ah gitch'all sum moah tee?"
I was still a trifle parched, so I negotiated half a glass of unsweet. I had barely finished when the wife pointed at the glass and asked, "What's that?"
Stuck to the inside of my glass was a thin green membrane about 1/2" square.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Lettuce."
"Did you order lettuce?"
"No. Just roast beef and fries."
"Well, now you've had your greens."
I called the waitress over and explained how much effort it took to keep from involuntarily returning lunch for a refund.
She took the lettuce, put it back into the glass and walked off, saying, "Oh, wow."
"Honey? You still got that gonorrhea bullet?
December 18, 2012
We're DOOMED. Sorta.
The world as we know it ends in three more days. Everybody is taking the news quite well.
We are still murdering each other. Sorta not worth the effort.
We are still cooking our own food in our own kitchens, and cleaning up afterward. The end of the world makes me crave Mexican food. Expensive Mexican food, paid for with a credit card. Sorta bill me later, amigo.
And hey, amigo - dawn-day ess-tahn tow-dough lowss Mayans? Sorta incriminating, them having started this whole thing and now they show up missin'.
I think I'll set aside the new book until, say, Monday. In the meantime, I have a few questions for God.
1. What time Friday?
2. Is there going to be paperwork?
3. Will you let me explain my fourth grade report card?
4. Do you have Cheez-Whiz?
Jon
Author Behaving Badly
We are still murdering each other. Sorta not worth the effort.
We are still cooking our own food in our own kitchens, and cleaning up afterward. The end of the world makes me crave Mexican food. Expensive Mexican food, paid for with a credit card. Sorta bill me later, amigo.
And hey, amigo - dawn-day ess-tahn tow-dough lowss Mayans? Sorta incriminating, them having started this whole thing and now they show up missin'.
I think I'll set aside the new book until, say, Monday. In the meantime, I have a few questions for God.
1. What time Friday?
2. Is there going to be paperwork?
3. Will you let me explain my fourth grade report card?
4. Do you have Cheez-Whiz?
Jon
Author Behaving Badly
December 4, 2012
The Next Big Thing
This is the infamous "Blog Hop". I've heard nothing but complaints about this subject -- in fact, exactly one complaint ("I don't understand how this works"). I'm fairly incompetent when it comes to blogs, so in all fairness I might have heard more comments and not recognized what people were talking about. I tend to ignore what I don't understand.
Thank goodness Nancy Johnson tagged me and listed all the rules and questions I have to answer about my Work In Progress (cue reverb). The Q&A follows:
1. What is the working title of your book?
Answer: "Dream Talker"
2. Where did the idea come from for the book?
Answer: A troublesome little adventure from my youth. There was this girl...
3. What genre does your book fall under?
Answer: Fiction, Action/Adventure, Paranormal
4. Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?
Answer: I shouldn't answer this. It could jinx the book.
5. What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?
Answer: Ella Stone threatens Amanita White Bear, a powerful Cherokee shaman who curses her father and her lover (one with visions of perpetual rain and the other to a life where rain never falls), and to save them she must form an alliance with a strange shopkeeper who has a plan that carries a deadly price.
6. If you plan to publish, will your book be self-published or published traditionally?
Answer: Kiefer Sutherland as Adrian Bishop! Oh, that's for number 4. It just sort of jumped into my head and out my mouth. "Dream Talker" will probably be self-published. I have a low threshold for Post Rejection Stress Disorder. Unfortunately, I tend to write query letters that are used as bad examples in writing courses. I'll tell you what...if anybody out there hooks me up with a decent agent, I'll cut them in for five percent of all revenues from "Dream Talker" for five years. Hey! I'm good for it!
7. How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?
Answer: 1st draft, 9/2011-3/2012. 2nd draft, 3/2012-9/2012 (at which point Barbara Rogan called it a "first draft", thus destroying my self image as a young, energetic, Keifer Sutherland-like leading man).
8. What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?
Answer: I wouldn't. It's completely unique. "Dream Talker" stands alone and is will be a bargain at its sale price of $15.99, available on Amazon and in airport coffee shops near you!
9. Who or What inspired you to write this book?
Answer: I want to be a writer. It's how I'll become immortal.
10. What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?
Answer: Magic, murder, military meteorology, madness, and mayhem. Lots of action verbs. A cross-country escape by bus. And sex! There's one scene with full-frontal nudity! OH! Mila Kunis as Ella Stone!
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FIVE BLOGS I'M TAGGING
-----------------
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
(this is hard. i don't know anybody)
Thank goodness Nancy Johnson tagged me and listed all the rules and questions I have to answer about my Work In Progress (cue reverb). The Q&A follows:
1. What is the working title of your book?
Answer: "Dream Talker"
2. Where did the idea come from for the book?
Answer: A troublesome little adventure from my youth. There was this girl...
3. What genre does your book fall under?
Answer: Fiction, Action/Adventure, Paranormal
4. Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?
Answer: I shouldn't answer this. It could jinx the book.
5. What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?
Answer: Ella Stone threatens Amanita White Bear, a powerful Cherokee shaman who curses her father and her lover (one with visions of perpetual rain and the other to a life where rain never falls), and to save them she must form an alliance with a strange shopkeeper who has a plan that carries a deadly price.
6. If you plan to publish, will your book be self-published or published traditionally?
Answer: Kiefer Sutherland as Adrian Bishop! Oh, that's for number 4. It just sort of jumped into my head and out my mouth. "Dream Talker" will probably be self-published. I have a low threshold for Post Rejection Stress Disorder. Unfortunately, I tend to write query letters that are used as bad examples in writing courses. I'll tell you what...if anybody out there hooks me up with a decent agent, I'll cut them in for five percent of all revenues from "Dream Talker" for five years. Hey! I'm good for it!
7. How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?
Answer: 1st draft, 9/2011-3/2012. 2nd draft, 3/2012-9/2012 (at which point Barbara Rogan called it a "first draft", thus destroying my self image as a young, energetic, Keifer Sutherland-like leading man).
8. What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?
Answer: I wouldn't. It's completely unique. "Dream Talker" stands alone and is will be a bargain at its sale price of $15.99, available on Amazon and in airport coffee shops near you!
9. Who or What inspired you to write this book?
Answer: I want to be a writer. It's how I'll become immortal.
10. What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?
Answer: Magic, murder, military meteorology, madness, and mayhem. Lots of action verbs. A cross-country escape by bus. And sex! There's one scene with full-frontal nudity! OH! Mila Kunis as Ella Stone!
-----------------
FIVE BLOGS I'M TAGGING
-----------------
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
(this is hard. i don't know anybody)
November 22, 2012
An Award on Turkey Day!
What a nifty way to start Thanksgiving! "Abigail Dare" just won "Indie Book of the Day" for November 22nd...TODAY!
I promise not to forget all the little people who made this dream a reality.
Jon
Author Behaving Badly
I promise not to forget all the little people who made this dream a reality.
Jon
Author Behaving Badly
November 15, 2012
RoosterBoots: Wisdom and Kind Words
I have recently looked at the reviews and the number of readers who have marked "The Incredibly Normal Adventures of RoosterBoots" as TO-READ. I am so touched, and so are each one of you guys.
Seriously, "TINAR" was the product of idle hands and a change in meds. I was browbeaten into publishing by a group of well-intentioned bikers who couldn't read past the third grade level. Sure enough, as soon as I was done, they demanded pictures, too.
Problem: I write gooder than I draw. In fact, I couldn't draw at all.
Stephen, my man, you read the book. You KNOW I can't draw and you wrote a review anyway. And then you complained that the stories were disconnected. I don't think you were in the right frame of mind to fully appreciate "TINAR". In fact, I suspect you were sober.
Let this serve as fair warning to everyone else. DO NOT try to read "The Incredibly Normal Adventures of RoosterBoots" without copious libation. If you understood that last part, you are too smart for this book.
Are there any questions? Yes, you there in the second row.
Q: "Were you stoned when you wrote the book?"
A: No, but I was naked.
Q: "Ick."
A: I'm sorry, but ICK isn't a question.
Q: "I...I just can't get past that image...that horrible, horrible image!"
A: The pictures are all naked, too.
Q: "Admit it, Jon. This blog post is just one long, painful self-promotion, isn't it?"
A: Painful? PAINFUL!? Why you self-important pettifogger, how dare you impugn my integrity with such a scurrilous denunciation. If I wasn't a gentleman, I'd throw rocks at you. Just like in the story "BabaRoo's Switch", the first chapter in "The Incredibly Normal Adventures of RoosterBoots". By the way, "BabaRoo's Switch" is in the first issue of eHumor magazine, scheduled for publication on December 21st (Mayan Doomsday).
Seriously, "TINAR" was the product of idle hands and a change in meds. I was browbeaten into publishing by a group of well-intentioned bikers who couldn't read past the third grade level. Sure enough, as soon as I was done, they demanded pictures, too.
Problem: I write gooder than I draw. In fact, I couldn't draw at all.
Stephen, my man, you read the book. You KNOW I can't draw and you wrote a review anyway. And then you complained that the stories were disconnected. I don't think you were in the right frame of mind to fully appreciate "TINAR". In fact, I suspect you were sober.
Let this serve as fair warning to everyone else. DO NOT try to read "The Incredibly Normal Adventures of RoosterBoots" without copious libation. If you understood that last part, you are too smart for this book.
Are there any questions? Yes, you there in the second row.
Q: "Were you stoned when you wrote the book?"
A: No, but I was naked.
Q: "Ick."
A: I'm sorry, but ICK isn't a question.
Q: "I...I just can't get past that image...that horrible, horrible image!"
A: The pictures are all naked, too.
Q: "Admit it, Jon. This blog post is just one long, painful self-promotion, isn't it?"
A: Painful? PAINFUL!? Why you self-important pettifogger, how dare you impugn my integrity with such a scurrilous denunciation. If I wasn't a gentleman, I'd throw rocks at you. Just like in the story "BabaRoo's Switch", the first chapter in "The Incredibly Normal Adventures of RoosterBoots". By the way, "BabaRoo's Switch" is in the first issue of eHumor magazine, scheduled for publication on December 21st (Mayan Doomsday).
September 30, 2012
Writing is to Perfection as Editing is to Infinity
"Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa" is Latin. It means "don't blame the messenger just because you have to rewrite EVERYTHING.
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Barbara Rogan is a piece of work. I knew I sort of had a "thing" for her when she ordered a copy of "Abigail Dare" and told me it was the first self-published book she had ever bought. Now, I don't know what YOU do with an email like that, but I had mine bronzed.
Then I got the second email, suggesting a rewrite of the entire book if my OCD was sufficiently severe. Obsessive/compulsive? ME? Why, I've never... That's the sort of mental illness that makes people stop what they're doing in mid-sentence and count the commas! (4, so far)
My wife would kill me. She was there by my side from the beginning, when "Abigail Dare" was a mere poem (OK, more like "Beowulf" is a poem). She listened patiently as I turned it into a short story, and again when it became a novel. She was my sounding board for every change, however slight. She made those cute clicking noises when company came over and I pulled out the manuscript, although she quit doing that when I hid her Ruger.
You can imagine how thrilled she was to hear that I was taking Barbara's advice and rewriting "Abigail Dare" one more time. I recall the exact words she used, and the only thing holding me back from repeating them here is the "Goodreads Terms of Use" agreement.
A month later, it was done. I approached my wife with the request to listen to the changes, but the curare hadn't worn off so her answer was a little garbled. No matter. I fluffed her pillows and raised her feet above the level of her heart, sat beside her and began to read:
"Abigail Dare by Jon Etheredge. Copyright (c) 2012 by Jon Etheredge. All rights reserved. No part of this..."
The next evening, I finished reading it to her. Barbara Rogan was right, and even though she took a chunk out of my ego she was still right. That night, my wife told me she had heard enough of "Abigail Dare" a year ago to last her a lifetime, but this time it was on a different level entirely. This time, she cried, even though she knew how the story ends.
Barbara, let me say that I used to consider myself to be a writer of tales and an author of literary work. In reality, I was a half-motivated hack, too lazy to go back and read my own books. I am now rewriting "Dream Talker" and my three short stories.
I'm still half-motivated but I think I have transcended hackdom. No, that's not accurate. If I transcend anything, it's because I have been motivated by the judicious application of a size 6 open-toed sandal.
We'll see.
---------
Barbara Rogan is a piece of work. I knew I sort of had a "thing" for her when she ordered a copy of "Abigail Dare" and told me it was the first self-published book she had ever bought. Now, I don't know what YOU do with an email like that, but I had mine bronzed.
Then I got the second email, suggesting a rewrite of the entire book if my OCD was sufficiently severe. Obsessive/compulsive? ME? Why, I've never... That's the sort of mental illness that makes people stop what they're doing in mid-sentence and count the commas! (4, so far)
My wife would kill me. She was there by my side from the beginning, when "Abigail Dare" was a mere poem (OK, more like "Beowulf" is a poem). She listened patiently as I turned it into a short story, and again when it became a novel. She was my sounding board for every change, however slight. She made those cute clicking noises when company came over and I pulled out the manuscript, although she quit doing that when I hid her Ruger.
You can imagine how thrilled she was to hear that I was taking Barbara's advice and rewriting "Abigail Dare" one more time. I recall the exact words she used, and the only thing holding me back from repeating them here is the "Goodreads Terms of Use" agreement.
A month later, it was done. I approached my wife with the request to listen to the changes, but the curare hadn't worn off so her answer was a little garbled. No matter. I fluffed her pillows and raised her feet above the level of her heart, sat beside her and began to read:
"Abigail Dare by Jon Etheredge. Copyright (c) 2012 by Jon Etheredge. All rights reserved. No part of this..."
The next evening, I finished reading it to her. Barbara Rogan was right, and even though she took a chunk out of my ego she was still right. That night, my wife told me she had heard enough of "Abigail Dare" a year ago to last her a lifetime, but this time it was on a different level entirely. This time, she cried, even though she knew how the story ends.
Barbara, let me say that I used to consider myself to be a writer of tales and an author of literary work. In reality, I was a half-motivated hack, too lazy to go back and read my own books. I am now rewriting "Dream Talker" and my three short stories.
I'm still half-motivated but I think I have transcended hackdom. No, that's not accurate. If I transcend anything, it's because I have been motivated by the judicious application of a size 6 open-toed sandal.
We'll see.
