First Chapters

First chapters are my favorite things to write. They burst out of you, helped by that initial surge of excited adrenaline that comes with every new story idea that has enough substance to stick around in the old noggin and not be forgotten with the shopping list. First chapters are where decisions are made: Is there a book here? Can I let this thing run itself out for four or five hundred pages? Does it have a heart beating in its chest? Those answers are never really clear, to be honest. You can only get a better sense of what's going on by writing a first chapter, meeting some characters, and deciding whether or not their lives are interesting enough to follow for upwards of a year. I've said this before, and I'll say it again: the best stories are not created; they are discovered. My job is not to make these people do things, but rather to hang out with them and be there when the shit goes down. And the shit almost ALWAYS goes down. If it doesn't--or if it doesn't seem like it's going to--then I bail after the first chapter. Because if I don't, when that initial excitement fades (and it always does), then I won't be able to care enough to write down what happens... or, if I do, I won't write it down the way it deserves and the story will be flat.

What I've Learned About Self-Publishing

I have been doing this writing and self-publishing thing for a little while now, and over the last year the hard work has finally started to payoff, albeit modestly. Just enough, I'd say, to make me see the true potential in self-publishing and want to write this post. The following is simply my opinion of what I found to work along the way, and what did not. I have spent countless hours over the last three years reading articles that others have written on the subject of self-publishing, and I think it's only fair to pay it forward and add my own two cents and, maybe, touch a little bit upon my own experiences. Take it or leave it. There is no formula for success for this, just a lot of trial and error and luck. But I would be lying to tell you there aren't things you can do to help your chances.


The Product

Once you have poured your blood, sweat and tears into writing your novel or short story or whatever, you need to stop thinking like a writer and start thinking business. Your book is now your product, and there are a lot of products out there that have had a lot of hours put into them to make them look like the professionally crafted products that they are.


So let's talk about what you're putting out there for a second. The first obstacle a self-published writer will be up against is the stigma attached to the fact that you are self-publishing your material instead of being "traditionally published" by a publishing house. Let's face it, for every well-crafted and professionally presented self-published novel put out there, there are a hundred that look like they were designed by a 5th grade computer class circa 1995 (that doesn't mean the writing is bad, but people will be hesitant to take a chance on you if your book looks shoddy). People often fear--and this is a stereotype that is rapidly being shed in the industry--that "self-published" is synonymous with "lesser quality." And they have every right to think this way because there certainly is no shortage of poorly crafted books out there in the digital self-pub market. So one way to increase your credibility is to make your product every bit as professional as what the big publishers are putting out. It's not easy on a small budget, but it also isn't impossible.


I would recommend finding a good website that sells pre-made or custom covers. Oh. Here's one. www.humblenations.com This is where I bought my cover and it was like $40, but it looks great if you ask me. I've actually received a few emails from people who liked Cicada Spring saying they bought it because they liked the cover. So, yes, people do judge a book by the cover. It is the first taste of the story the book contains. I like to think the cover sets the mood before the reader has read one word.*


*I won't lie. I still have a couple book covers on Amazon that aren't as nice as I'd like, but they are for short stories, and I kind of like seeing them as a reminder of how I started.


I would also recommend springing for a professional editor. Oh. Here's a good place. www.redadeptediting.com For a 100,000 word manuscript it's about $500 (I suggest the one-pass line edit), but it is worth every penny. And if things go well and you make a little money selling books (the business side of you should want this), you will be able to write that amount off on your taxes to reduce what you owe Johnny Government.**


**Here I should add that you should save all receipts for anything you do writing related. You'll thank yourself later. Anytime you do anything that costs you money and it is related to your writing, get a receipt and put it in an envelope.


Bottom line is that it is important your book has as few errors as possible inside. Have someone edit it, then have six or seven people proofread it. I won't tell you it will ever be perfect, even after five proofreads from others and a dozen of my own, I still doubt I got them all. That's okay, though. Even Big House books have errors. But the goal here is to get this thing as polished as possible. And if you do find a typo in your digital book after it is published, it's not that hard to fix. Here's Hugh Howey to explain how. And if you don't know who he is, you should Google him.


Fixing print book errors is a different story though, and I'm not going to get into that.


At the end of the day, though, no matter how pretty and professional your product is, how spotless the grammar and spelling is, if you're not telling a story people want to read (no fixes here), you're gonna have a bad time. I have a hard time seeing how a poorly told (or a boring) story will sell well (consistently beyond marketing campaigns, anyway) because word of mouth is key to a book's success. And people don't tell their friends about books that didn't do it for them.


That brings me to my next part.


Marketing


Word of mouth always is and always will be the ultimate marketing tool. But it takes some big pushes, and patience (and sacrifice), to get people talking about your book. However, thanks to the wonderful world of social media, it is much easier for people to hear when their friends are chattering about your book. If you haven't already, go sign up for Goodreads. It's Facebook for booklovers and authors.


When it comes to marketing your book, there are a lot of options. I will tell you the things I have done that have led to over 100,000 downloads and some trailing sales.


Let's start with this, and you're gonna hate it if you just spent a year or more writing a book: GIVE IT AWAY FOR FREE as much as possible. If you don't have a readership yet, which I don't imagine you do if you're reading articles about self-publishing, then the best way to gain one is to give content away for free. And not just any content--give people GOOD CONTENT, a good story, for free and they will gladly pay for your next. They will also tell people about your book and if your free promo is over they will buy it if their friend gushes about it enough, especially if you are pricing your book in the $2.99 - $4.99 range.


What's a free promo? Well if you use Amazon KDP Select, and I recommend you do, you will learn that the service allows you to do five days of free promotion every 90 days. Doing a promotion alone won't generate a ton of downloads, but pairing it with a marketing campaign like Bookbub (more on this in a second) will blast you up the charts.


Here is what I did.


The first time I did a free campaign I did it by itself without any marketing. Luckily, a site called Pixel of Ink picked up that it was free and in three days I had 15,000 downloads and Cicada Spring made it to #2 on the Amazon list of free books. These lists are crucial; they get eyes on your book. And after the free promo was over, I had about 200 sales. Not great, but more than I had ever anticipated. The most valuable thing about the promo though was that it got me about 75 reviews from random readers, and they were good reviews. This increased my credibility.


I then leveraged those good reviews to apply for a Bookbub campaign to list my book for free again in the next few months.


What's Bookbub? It is a website/email subscription with over 3 million users. You basically pay them to blast your book out to all these people. The catch is that they are also super exclusive and picky and won't pick your book if they don' think their readers will like it (here's where those 75 reviews helped).


Anyway, I applied and Bookbub accepted and I paid them $400 (tax write-off) to list my book as free. I listed it for four days. End result: 95,000 downloads. For the following four months I also sold a thousand books and had over a million pages (Kindle Unlimited users) read.


This was all generated by giving away my books for free. Oh, and I also sold a bunch of my short stories. It was a good learning experience too. I received a ton of emails asking if I had more full-length books. I did not, and so ended up depressed that I was missing so many sales opportunities. However, I think it is a testament to how powerful a marketing tool giving away free content can be. It goes against all the hard work you put into writing your novel, but in the end it gets you what you should want as a writer...it gets you readers.


Keep Writing


This is most important. You can't keep focusing on your one book. Once you have written it and polished it and gotten it out there, you need to turn your focus to writing another book. That's where I am right now. Your book is out there until Amazon somehow crumbles, and it has the rest of its life to be discovered. Your best chance of that is to have a few books find moderate success and hope the fire catches. Here is where luck is nice. You never know who will stumble upon your book and love it.




Earlier I said I didn't think there was a formula for success in this industry, but I think I was wrong. I think what you need to do is consistently put out quality writing that people want to read. That's what the pros do. And how do you get people to want to read your stuff? I think you just have to say something interesting. Readers will forgive a lot, but they won't forgive being bored by your writing. The rest, the consistency part, is just hard work.


And here is where I end abruptly, perhaps having written a lot, said little, and taught nothing of value. It's Friday and I feel like leaving the office now. I guess in the end this was more a story about myself than it was advice. I think there is some useful stuff in here though. Basically just pour your heart into a book, spend money polishing it, then spend more money giving it away for free. It worked for me though.

Goodreads Giveaway and Brief Update

I know, I know, I have been neglecting my social media duties lately. But I think that's okay because I have been busy with work (gotta pay the bills) and writing my second novel. It's coming along nicely, although it has changed a lot along the way and is a much different story than I had first envisioned. That's all right though. Isn't that usually what happens when you try to write a book? You have an idea of what the story should be, but the story has its own ideas and you end up meeting somewhere in the middle and agreeing on a fair compromise. At first I said that 'Soldier of God' was going to be like 'Sling Blade' meets 'The Green Mile,' but it has turned into something closer to 'The Shining' meets 'It' meets, well, still 'Sling Blade.' I'll post an excerpt soon, once I know the storyline is pretty much cemented in place. I'd rather not post a chapter/an excerpt/whatever if I will end up cutting it later, or if it is part of a plotline that ends up being unnecessary. Anyway, I almost forgot why I even decided to write this post: I'm doing a Goodreads Giveaway. There should be a widget below. Sign up if you'd like a chance to win a signed copy of my first novel, 'Cicada Spring.'

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Cicada Spring

by Christian Galacar

Giveaway ends February 25, 2016.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads.

Enter Giveaway

Short Horror Stories for Halloween

As promised (at least I think I promised this at some point) I have collected four dark short stories, old and new, and published them. The collection is titled "Blackwater: Four Stories"(damn I'm clever), and it is available for $0.99 on Amazon. Some of the stories are my first children, and they have buck teeth and bad acne, but they are not without their moments so give them a chance... I was just learning to walk, myself. These aren't intended to be award winners, and perhaps they should've stayed in the trunk where trunk stories belong, but they might occupy an hour of your time and leave you with a shiver or a smile, depending on how demented you are. I won't judge.

Finally Got Around to Creating a Website

I had been putting off the daunting task of creating a website for quite some time. Then I realized it really wasn't a daunting task at all, and that I was being dramatic and lazy. As I suspected, the majority of Internet-related things that once seemed complicated to non-tech-savvy people, such as myself, have since been streamlined and made user-friendly to the masses. I suppose that's how we advance as a species. Anyway, website building was one of those things that got easier. Go figure.

As it turns out, there are many companies that provide this service--Squarespace, Weebly, Wix, Jimdo, to name a few. I chose Wix. It was relatively inexpensive ($75 per year), and the editing platform was easy and intuitive. The others are fine companies, but admittedly I didn't vet them as thoroughly as I could have. With so little free time, I need to be efficient.

So without further ado, I give you my website, the official Christian Galacar Author Page. I'm sure I'll update it over the next few weeks. Tweak things etc. But the basic idea is there. If you visit, be sure to sign up for the newsletter. I only really plan to take advantage of that feature to announce book releases... and possibly to solicit reviews and offer advanced reader copies.

 

 

www.christiangalacar.com

 

 

 

Damn that's a clever domain name. 

Cicada Spring Is a B.R.A.G. Medallion Honoree

This is some exciting news! I was just notified that Cicada Spring is a B.R.A.G. Medallion Honoree. If you don't know what that means, click here and have a look at their website. No viruses, I promise (although that's exactly what a virus would want you to think). Now my cover has a fancy new emblem. I'll update my Amazon cover soon.

What's Next

Over the past month or so, I have received a lot of emails from new readers who have read my first novel, Cicada Spring, asking if I had any more books. It’s always a bittersweet thing: I love hearing from people who have enjoyed my writing, but I am always slightly bummed that I don’t have more books to offer at the moment (I don’t count the short stories I have published on Amazon). From a business standpoint, I can’t help but see it as the missed sales opportunity that it is. But what is even more disappointing (far more so than any amount of lost revenue) is not being able to provide more entertainment to people looking for it.

Now I know writing is not an immediate endeavor, but it is hard to know there are people out there asking for more when I don’t have anything to offer right away. I feel like I’m turning away hungry patrons, forcing them to leave empty-handed, stomachs still rumbling, appetites not sated. I don’t like it. Nope. Not one bit.

The only solution it would seem is to write another book. And, I suppose, the purpose of this post is to assure people who might stumble upon it that I am in fact writing another book. It’s called Soldier of God (for now, anyway), and my plan is to have it ready for publication in May/June 2016. I’m about a third of the way through the first draft, and provided my schedule doesn’t become even more hectic, I should be able to finish it in time for this coming spring. At my current rate, taking into account the responsibility of my full-time job (gotta pay the bills), I feel confident that I can put out at least one book per year—and maybe a few short stories here and there when time allows.

But what’s the new book about? you ask. Well that’s a good question. Here’s what I will tell you: Soldier of God takes place in the fictional town of Gilchrist, Mississippi, in 1959. There is murder. There is kidnapping. There is a strange river. It is kind of like a bizarre lovechild of The Green Mile and Sling Blade. That’s all I’ll share for now, but rest assured I am really enjoying writing and discovering this strange tale as I go. And at the end of the day, that’s what my writing comes down to: I write the kinds of stories I want to read... and I absolutely want to keep reading this one.

Oh, and I almost forgot. In October I plan to put out a short story or two. Definitely one, maybe two.  The definite one is titled Blackwater which is my homage to Stephen King’s short story, Graveyard Shift, one of my childhood favorites. The second is a really short story I wrote when I first started out called Mercury Rain. They’re both fun stories, and they’ll either be $.99 or free. I might actually end up packaging the two together and releasing it as a duo.

Anyway, that’s all for now. I have to get a haircut. If you want to stay up to date on what I’m up to with my writing, follow my blog by adding your email to the little gadget thingy on the top right of my blog’s home page. And as always, please feel free to reach out to me through email at cgalacar@gmail.com. I truly do like to hear from readers.  

Cicada Spring: Award Update and Readers' Favorite Review

So I just found out the other day that Cicada Spring won an Honorable Mention award from the 2015 Readers' Favorite Awards in the suspense category. I thought that was pretty cool, seeing as I never really expected more than a handful of people to ever read my book. I'm still debating going to the ceremony in Miami, but I think I'm leaning more towards yes than no--my beautiful tax accountant girlfriend has informed me I can write the whole thing off on my taxes this year. Beaches, sun, and an award... seems like a no-brainer.

 

  

 

 

 

And since I'm on the subject of Readers' Favorite, I thought I would post the Five-Star review they gave Cicada Spring. You can also read it on the website here.

 

 

 

 

 

Reviewed by Anne-Marie Reynolds for Readers' Favorite

Cicada Spring by Christian Galacar is a story of suspense set in 1979, Heartsridge, Massachusetts. An ordinary day in the lives of ordinary people, until 15-year-old Kara Price stumbles home, following a brutal attack and rape. The perpetrator? A highly public figure in the town, one who is loved by all. Heartsridge is changed, divided. A mayor who can do nothing wrong, despite his temper. A sheriff with a guilty conscience. A father who wants revenge for his little girl, and a killer. Then there’s Kara. She just wants to put it all behind her and move on. But she can’t. There are too many people who accuse her of lying, of being nothing more than an attention seeker. Will justice prevail or will the guilty party walk away, leaving Kara to pick up the pieces of her life?

Cicada Spring is an impressive debut novel by Christian Galacar. From page one, you will not be able to put it down, I guarantee you of that. It is fast and full of exiting action. Twists and turns like no other and the expert handling of a real human interest subject show that Mr. Galacar has set the wheels in motion for a runaway novel. I expect this book to explode onto the scene and receive the accolades it richly deserves. The insight into the mind of a rape victim is deep and will affect any reader. This is a fantastic novel, with strong characters and a strong plot, and I really hope that it signals the beginning of a strong career for Christian Galacar. I look forward to seeing more from this promising author. 

 

 

2015 Kindle Book Awards Semi-Finalist

No long blog post today (not that I do many of those or anything). I just wanted to announce that I found out last week that I am a semi-finalist in the 2015 Kindle Book Awards in the Suspense/Horror category. It was unexpected, and I am proud to be in contention with so many other talented authors. It's inspiring, but also funny to think that this started out as a hobby that I never thought would amount to much. Thanks to everyone who assured me Cicada Spring wasn't crap when I was certain it was. Next update on this will be September 1st when I find if I made it to the finals. Fingers crossed.

True Detective: A Few Observations

I want to start by saying that as of writing this, I have not formed any sort of opinion regarding how good or bad the new season of True Detective is. It would be foolish to this early on. In fact, to be completely honest, the only reason I am writing this at all is in shallow hopes that the trending topic will result in a few extra hits on my blog and, possibly, a few extra book sales. Shameless, I know, but whadya gonna do? A man’s gotta eat. That being said, it does not mean that what I am writing is, for lack of a better word, complete shit. What I’m really saying is: There be truth in these here hills.

Okay, so it’s not an opinion and it’s not shit... so what is it then? This early on in the season of TD (due to laziness, I will be referring to True Detective as TD from here on out), it’s just some observations on what I noticed after watching last night’s episode, “The Western Book Of The Dead.” Things that seemed to be working and things that seemed not to be. There’ll be a few opinions, sure, but as promised I will not judge the season itself, as many have been so quick to do.

*Possible light spoilers below*

To start, I can understand why everyone was so quick to rip the first episode apart. It was very heavy on character development, which, like any backstory or exposition in fiction, can tend to be a bit on the slow side if not executed with a deft hand. One of the most successful methods of doing it well, from a historical standpoint (because you never know who will change the rules of the game), is to get to know your characters bit by bit as you journey through the main narrative with them. That was what worked so well last season. We opened to the heart of the mystery, dove right in, and took the ride with Marty and Rust from the get go, being introduced to them more and more as the story went on. And while I think last night’s episode of TD did a good job of setting the stage for what’s to come, I will say that it lacked that dark hook that season one cast out there right away to lure in its audience. It was all fur coat and no trousers. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing; it’s just different. However, when coming off the high from last year’s soul-blistering introduction to the series, it’s easy to see how different can taste an awful lot like crap. My recommendation to anyone already abandoning ship this early on in the season is this: Cleanse your pallet, then come back and try to view season two as its own animal. Compare it to its predecessor, fine, that’s inevitable and I will likely do it now, but do so in the same way you would compare red and white wines to each other.

My next thought ties to what’s above. Nic Pizzolatto’s writing tends to be very focused on understanding what drives his characters—aka motivation—which is extremely crucial to telling a good story with good characters. If what people do and how they act does not seem authentically motivated, then we don’t believe it and we stop watching... or reading. In WBOD (get it? more laziness) we are introduced to a fair amount of characters right away (we get ‘the who’ upfront instead of ‘the what’ this season), and of each we learn just enough through action, implication, what is said—and not said—to pique our interest. I’m sure as season two progresses the onion will be peeled back on each character significantly, in time with the plot. From a writer’s perspective, it seems to me that Nic has gotten a lot of the heavy lifting out of the way early, clearing the way for a headlong plunge into a story-rich plot that may require a bit more room to tell itself. And that’s fine by me. Or I could be completely wrong.

The one thing I will say was lacking so far, was the eerie atmosphere from season one. The atmosphere of WBOD was thoroughly dark (I felt wrong not drinking whiskey while watching it)… but it was dark in a different kind of way. It was dark in a private detective noir film kind of way, where I kept half-expecting someone to drop the word “dame.” Thankfully that never happened, although I could tell Vince Vaughn’s character wanted to badly to utter it at least once. And I really disliked the use of the nearly identical ominous ambient music they used in season one for scenes in last night’s ep where it didn’t quite belong. It felt an awful lot like a cheap trick to try to elicit a latent response generated by residual feelings for last year’s story. I also could have done without the cringe-worthy and poorly executed almost-lose-control-of-the-motorcycle shtick. F that... he should be dead.

One more thing that seems a little forced is the overuse of philosophical ideas in a not-so-subtle way by characters. Last season it worked with Rust because whenever he’d go off on a tangent his partner was always there to call him out on it, and it made the whole thing seem self-aware and it worked. This season, so far, there is nothing to offset the heaviness of the dialogue and at times it can feel a little overwrought and crammed into the actors’ mouths. But as I said in the very beginning, it’s only getting started. The season is just waking up and last night’s episode was merely it opening its eyes and yawning. Saying, “Hello, old friend.” I’m confident there’s a satisfying ride ahead (twss).

There’s more on my mind, but I’m tired and want to go to bed. Perhaps I’ll do this weekly on Mondays for the remainder of the season. Or maybe I won’t.

 

“Behold what was once a man.”

 

Writing Advice: Or (How One Writer Writes)

About a week ago a friend of mine let me do a guest post on her blog. I'm not sure if it's against guest-blogging protocol to post the same post on your own blog after it's already been posted on another's website, but I need to start building my posts (and I really liked this one) so I decided to take the risk. If I'm committing some kind of blog sin, I do hope someone will tell me.

 * * * * *

My girlfriend and I just signed a lease on a new apartment. That is exciting news in and of itself, but something equally exciting happened to me this weekend while I was cleaning out my bookshelf and boxing things up: I found my copy of Strunk's The Elements of Style. Immediately I recalled how fun and terrifying those first baby steps into the perilous world of writing were. The feeling was a strange combination of fear and longing that made me thirsty for a cold beer with old friends. I missed those earlier times.

Ahhh nostalgia, what a fantastic and powerful drug.

*Long thoughtful sigh*

Moving on now. 

Even better than the book discovery, was when I cracked it open and leafed through the pages and the receipt for it fell out (Spirit of '76 Bookstore, which, coincidentally, is now carrying my first novel, Cicada Spring). The receipt was faded and creased in all kids of strange ways that seemed impossible, especially when you considered that it had spent nearly three years pressed flatly between pages. But there it was in all its magnificent glory—proof of a beginning. For all intents and purposes, it was my birth certificate, a reminder of when I decided writing was what I wanted to do.

According to the tiny piece of paper, May 20th, 2012, was when Christian the Writer was born. I'm still a lot of other things: Christian the Banker, Christian the Over-Confident Golfer, Christian the Hungry, Christian the Habitual Line-Crosser. But Christian the Writer is certainly my favorite of all these identities. He is the one who feels most at home in his awkward and often sunburned skin. Christian the Writer doesn't tan well.

It's funny to think about how three years can feel so short yet so long at the same time. From my current standpoint, it flew by (a tad cliché, I know), but when I try to place myself in my younger self's writing shoes, I can only remember time passing in a grim slog of impatience.

When I was first starting, pumping out short story after short story, all I wanted to do was get better. I wrote hard and fast, with little regard for the rules. I was aware I was making mistakes, but I didn't care. Damn it, I wanted to be good NOW! Get out of my way punctuation and grammar! However, deep down, I knew there was work to be done. Very. Hard. Work. Talent, in my opinion, is less about the 'genius' you think you have inside you, the gift you believe you were given, and much more about how hard you are willing to work to coax it out of you and shine a light on it. It'll be an ugly bastard at first--squinty eyes, no teeth, opaque pink skin (picture a baby rat)--but eventually you can pretty it up some and maybe even find someone who'd be happy to date it.

What I'm getting at is this: I knew that if I kept at it, if I promised myself that no matter what happened, if at the end of the day I never gave up, then inevitably I would get better. And sure enough, I did. At least I think so. The progress was slow. The results, I was certain, would never come. But bit by bit, word by word, then sentence by sentence, things started to get better and easier. I have no delusions of being a genius writer, but I do, however, think that the talent I felt simmering inside me is finally a little easier to transition from my head to the blank page. In short, it's gotten easier to say what I want to say the way I want to say it. And in writing, that's pretty darn important. It is your voice.

So, while I know 'writing advice' is an over-touched-upon subject, and one I'm not even sure I am qualified to discuss, I would still like to talk a little bit about what I picked up along the way. Bits and scraps from here and there. Things that worked for me. Some might be helpful. Some might be better suited as dog food. But if you, dear reader, should glean even the tiniest morsel of inspiration or insight from it, I will be satisfied. Think of this less as advice and more of me telling you what has worked for me. There is no one size-fits-all with writing, so read this and interpret it widely. These things are simply the things I've noticed I was doing when I felt most in control of my craft.

Let's begin.

1) Write Honestly

This is something of a staple in almost any book on writing you will ever read. My favorite, of course, is Stephen King's On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft, and he discusses the topic the way only Stephen King can. I doubt he would claim to have invented the notion; it is simply something any writer worth his or her salt learns along the way—that the words are best and have the greatest impact when they aren't dumbed down out of fear of what people might think or who might get offended.

Many writers, I have found, are the sort who were often thought of as weird in their adolescence. Not because they were actually weird necessarily, but because they would say things with little care of what others would think of them. Little did we know we were preparing ourselves at such a young age to say what we wanted to say the way we wanted to say it.

So what exactly does 'write honestly' mean? It can mean many things to many people, but to me it means don't hold back. For example: If you want to make a character convincing, say a character who is supposed to be devious and evil (serial killers are a good blank canvas for the dark inclined mind), then I hate to tell you this but you're going to have to conjure up some dark thoughts that disturb you. And when you finally go to put them down on the page, cringing as you type the words, second guessing yourself as to whether or not it's too much and you've crossed a line, you need to know that that's when you should keep going. If you aren't feeling it as a writer when you're writing it, then you better believe the reader won't feel it when they read it. That goes for any emotion—fear, love, lust, anger, humor, sadness.

To write honestly you need to know your characters inside and out. They have to think and behave the way they were meant to, and often times the way that they want to; they can easily take on a life of their own and say things that catch you off guard. So if they decide to speak up, for the love of God do not censor them. It's an unforgivable sin, if you ask me, and you should be nibbled to death by a duck.

2) Surprise Yourself

When it comes to twists and surprises you need to avoid doing the first thing that comes to mind. You are the writer, but you are also the first reader. If you get to a point in your story where you can see the setup/opportunity for a plot-twist coming, take a break for a moment. During that break, think of the first two or three scenarios that would best fit that twist... then throw them away. If you thought of them that fast, then chances are a reader will too. Sometimes the cleverest twists are the ones that seem more obvious (sounds counterintuitive, I know), but people automatically look for the obscure when they start to realize things aren't what they seem. Hiding in plain sight isn't always bad if it suits your story. Points for clever twists are always good, but not the ultimate currency in storytelling. Stories are so much bigger than gimmicks.

In a roundabout way, I think I am trying to say to be real as often as possible. Root your lies in grains of truth to lend them believability and ground them in reality.

3) Find What Works For You and Do It

Writers are creatures of habit, if nothing else. We have our routines and our environmental requirements in order for the words to flow freely. Some writers like to drink or smoke a cigarette or wear aluminum foil on their feet. Find what works for you, your comfort zone, and stay there for the duration of your writing session, whatever it may be. Me? I need to be warm. Scratch that—I need to be blazing hot. I bundle up and turn the heat to 78 degrees. It's the only way I can relax enough to get things moving along. By the time I've managed to get down a thousand or so words, I'm usually a sweaty medium-rare and ready for consuming.

4) Write, Damn it!

This one should go without saying, yet I cannot tell you how many "writers" I have met who tell me they want to write something. It's usually at this moment that I am overtaken with ungovernable rage and want to grab them by the lapels and shake them, all the while screaming "Well then write it, damn you! Don't tell me you want to write... WRITE!!"

What I am getting at in a not-so-subtle way is that if you want to write, you need to write. Even if it is only a hundred words a day, you have to write. It is the only way to get better, and it is the only way to be a writer. Hence the old chestnut: A writer writes. It's old and it's a chestnut because it is true. I have a minimum goal of five hundred words per day, and I always hit that no matter what, even if the words are crap. If I don't, I honestly have a hard time sleeping. Writing, as with so many other hobbies, can quickly become a compulsion and an obsession that demands things from you. It is not unlike an unruly child without manners. It wants what it wants when it wants it. So feed it and you'll be happy.

5) Read Everything

That's all I have to say about that.

6) Dialogue

Dialogue can be tricky. I have always been jealous of those to whom it comes easy. My brother, for instance, can write clever and witty dialogue as if he has been doing it for his entire life. I should mention he is not a writer and the dialogue he does put down on the page is usually just part of some funny email he has decided to send me when the hours of our day jobs are ticking by slowly. But still, he is damn good at it. The trick is, I have found, to remove the boring parts (Elmore Leonard says the same about all writing, in fact). Dialogue should always move the story along or build a character's depth and reveal subtle motivations. It's a great way to show instead of tell.

If you want to try an exercise that can help you improve your skills, try this: listen to conversations on a train and transcribe them, then after you've creepily jotted down everything the couple next to has said, take out all the parts that didn't lend a person character (mannerisms and stall words etc) and take out all the stuff that didn't advance the conversation. What you are left with is the good meat.

7) Finish Something

One of the biggest confidence boosts I got when I was first beginning to write was when I finished my first story. I had a wicked habit of starting things and putting them down, never to be finished. The problem is that when you first come up with an idea to write, there is this initial euphoric blast of adrenalin and excitement. You are like a child with a new toy. But after a few thousand words the excitement wears off and you are left with a bill for the hard work required to finish it. This is where the men are separated from the boys, the women from the girls. This is where it's time to show that story who the hell's boss. So do it. Come to the page every day and finish that story. Even when it gets hard, even when the idea seems stupid at second thought, even when the characters don't resonate, finish it. I promise you when you sit there at the end of it all, finished first draft in hand, it will all be worth it. One cruddy but finished story is far better than a dozen brilliant first paragraphs. And besides, first drafts almost always stink anyway. It's okay. Rewriting and editing is an equally important craft to hone, and you will do just that, grasshopper... you will. It just takes time and practice.

For now I think I have said enough. There is more kicking around in my noggin I am sure, but much of it is probably nothing more than opinions on what you should eat for breakfast and what brand of tea to drink while writing (Earl Grey). So I shall depart posthaste, before I lose your attention, dear reader. But first I would like to thank Kathleen Valentine for the opportunity to write this piece for her blog. The advice she has given me over the past few years has been invaluable.

Thank You.

New FREE Short Story on Amazon

For the next two days my short story "Finding Nebraska" will be free on Amazon. Give it a read. Hope you enjoy. I'll post a description and an excerpt below.

Description:

A short story of 8000 words.

Sometimes the wheel of life doesn't spin in your favor, and sometimes there's nothing you can do about it. Brian Lethando knows this firsthand. His mother left him when he was only two years old, and his father died shortly after of a heroin overdose. Twenty years later, when the woman who took Brian in and raised him as her own son begins to suffer the effects of Alzheimer's, the two of them set out on one last road trip to discover the true meaning of the word 'family.'

Excerpt:

Finding Nebraska

We drive west on Route 20. The car moves along, rolling on rusted rims and bald tires, barreling toward some uncertain future I know holds in it the possibility of hurt. But that’s life, and that’s okay. Hands gripping the wheel, eyes set forward on the edge of the sunset, I ask, “Do you really think this is a good idea?”

Louise looks at me. Smiles. “I don’t know. But what I do know is that we break our hearts, our bodies and our souls, for the things we love—or the idea of love, anyway. I know that much. But no, Brian, I can’t tell you if this is a good idea. I only know you’ll do it because you have to.” Then she turns back to the window.

Silence.

Land rolls on endlessly. Outside is a plate of dead plains that seem like lost dreams. Forgotten hope. Dry grass like dead love. Vast skies kiss the purple horizon with level lips. Occasional rock ridges the color of burnt biscuits cut the straight lines, catching the last rays of the falling sun, setting their crowns on fire like stone torches.

I think about what Louise just said. I think I understand what she meant about having to go. She is having one of her moments of clarity, a two-day stretch this time. To some it might not seem that way, but she is. I recognize it. The eyes tell it like it is. And she is behind them right now.

These moments, when I recognize the woman who raised me for all those years, are where I want to be. But I feel myself already starting to miss them, like the promise of being lost forever has already begun sweeping them away. They are little glimpses back to the old Louise, the woman who existed before she got sick, before her doctor said that phrase that sounded so cruelly like Old-Timer’s Disease. Nothing lasts forever, though. I’m not foolish enough to think it does. Some things should, I’ll admit that. But they plain don’t. Just have to bear it.

With a final wink, the sun drops below the horizon. The sky smolders like an ember of heaven. Louise slides across the bench-seat of the Pontiac and rests her head on my shoulder. She fiddles with the radio dial. Something with twang fills the car. We must be in Nebraska by now.

“I think we’re in Nebraska,” I say. “You want to take your pills?”

She doesn’t respond, only rests her hand on my thigh and begins to caress it. Then I feel her dry lips on my neck, smell her sweet perfume with the stiff undertones of medicine and dry mouth. “Dad will never know, Cody. Let’s be a little bad. Why don’t you pull over? We’ll park for a bit.”

She’s gone again, just like that. I pull away gently. I don’t want to scare her. What she thinks and feels in these moments is real to her. Cody was her boyfriend in high school, from a timeline nearly fifty years before.

“Louise, it’s me, Brian. Do you remember who I am? We’re taking a road trip, remember?”

She looks at me, trying to hold a flirtatious smile—or trying to remember how to. I can see that she feels sixteen again, but the deep-set lines in her face won’t lie about her age. They are like dried up riverbeds wandering away from the edges of her eyes, her lips, mapping the story of a hard life.

Doubt clouds her face. Her smile starts to fade, replaced with something like embarrassment. Only she doesn’t know if she should be embarrassed, so she hesitates, clinging to that false reality where she’s sixteen and I’m Cody. She is half kneeling on the seat like an eager teenager when her world begins slipping through her fingers. She becomes aware of the misalignment in her mind. Then she slouches, as if someone pulled a plug and she is deflating. “Oh, I… Brian? I’m sorry. I got confused. Did I… I thought you were…”

I don’t let her finish. She shouldn’t have to say the words. She shouldn’t have to explain herself. It isn’t her fault. “It’s okay. Don’t apologize. Maybe we should stop for the night. Get some sleep. It’s been a long day.”

And it has been a long day. We’ve covered nearly six hundred miles. Six hundred miles with only one slip of her mind. Not bad. But not good, either. The bouts seem to come in clusters, like wave sets breaking on the shore of her mind. Churning. Unearthing fossilized memories like ancient relics. There is comfort in knowing that when white water settles, clear waters resurface.

Read the rest here: http://www.amazon.com/Finding-Nebraska-Short-Christian-Galacar-ebook/dp/B00VUE3FXE/

---

Confessions of an Honest Liar

If you write fiction, chances are you’re a fantastic liar. But that’s okay; it’s the job, and I won’t judge you for it, so long as you don’t judge me. Who knows? Maybe one day people will even pay you to lie to them, if you do it well enough, of course.

One of my favorite authors, Stephen King, touched on the subject of being a liar. He tells a true story about once being mistaken for Francis Ford Coppola in Boston circa the 1970’s (or maybe it was Connecticut), and instead of telling the misguided fan that he was not in fact the famous film director, he played along with it and had some fun lying to the guy, eventually signing a fake autograph for him. In the end, King’s reasoning was simple (and I am paraphrasing and recalling from memory, so I may be off a little or maybe even making it up, although I don’t think I am): He said he is a writer of fiction, which by default made him susceptible to telling the occasional white lie, if for no other reason than to just have a little fun. That is, after all, precisely what his fans have paid him millions of dollars to do for the last three and a half decades—lie to them. Old habits die hard, it would seem.

In my opinion, if you ever really expect to tell a good story, being a liar is less a side-effect of writing fiction and more a requirement. And not only do you need to be able to spin one hell of a yarn, you need to make your lies honest. Honesty is the most important thing. Of all the rules I’ve stumbled upon in books on writing and blog posts over the last few years, it is the one rule I will never (nor should any writer) break. If I do, you have my permission to break into my house in the middle of the night while I slumber away and subject me to whatever painful torture you see fit for such an egregious misdeed. I only ask you leave my fingers intact so that I may have the opportunity to redeem myself at some future date.

Honesty, in case I haven’t been clear enough, is important to me, as it should be for any writer. It is why my blog is titled The Honest Scrivener, and it is why Stephen King’s quote about truthfulness in writing is on my home page. The quote (which I will now allow you ten seconds to go back and read…Done? Okay, good) sums up the importance of the unspoken promise the writer makes to the reader to tell a story as truthfully as possible, expressing with honesty—which can sometimes be brutal and painful, and sometimes beautiful and enlightening—how humans act and talk.

It is in honesty that truly great writing lives. Readers can smell it and feel it. Hell, if it’s good enough, they can almost reach out and touch it when they encounter it. It is the thing that makes a person stop reading for that brief moment and crack the spine of the book open across their chest, simply so they can appreciate what they’ve just experienced. It is a little, secret moment of gratitude—a head nod to the author for not pulling any punches. If a character is an asshole, don’t call them a jerk . . . call them a goddamned asshole. That’s what they are, so why try to sugarcoat it? It’s disrespectful to the reader, shameful for the writer to do, and, in my very humble opinion, degrades the craft. Simply put: Dishonest lies are bad fiction. People appreciate honesty, in life and in art. Perhaps it’s because it creates an unspoken sense of connection, a feeling that we are not alone, especially when we read an idea or a thought we assumed was solely unique to us. When we find that someone else out there in this great big world shares our sentiment about something we have always only been able to feel but never fully understand, and then that thing is illuminated in a way you’ve never seen before, and it is defined in a way that allows you to see its true form, well, I don’t know about you, but I think that is a very magical thing. It is like a lost puzzle piece has been slid into place, and life—the world, even—seems to make a little more sense, even if only in a minute way. Honesty is the foundation that healthy, lasting relationships are built upon. And isn’t that what writing is—a relationship between author and reader?

We exist for far too brief a time on earth to be lied to poorly, so find someone whose deceit is born in truth and honesty and let them lie to you properly. And hey, maybe throw them a few bucks every now and again for their troubles. I’m sure they’d appreciate that. Deception is hard work.

Book Cover - Self-Publish vs. Traditional - Query Synopsis

So as many of my readers might know, I finished my first novel, Cicada Spring, back in April. When I was done with the first draft, I put it aside for a month to gain some perspective. After that excruciatingly long period of waiting, I read it, edited it, read it, edited it, read it, paid for an editor from Red Adept Publishing (a lovely small publisher that provides indie author services, and that I highly recommend), adjusted accordingly (no major problems, only wrinkles, I was told), then read it again. Trust me, reading the same book 4 or 5 times in a few months can be trying, but it was a necessary step to get the manuscript ready to send out. Now that baby sparkles like Jesus's teeth.

I have sent it out many times. It gets bites. I have had a few full requests, some partials, some good feedback. That’s great—already more than I ever expected. However, the more I research, the more I begin to realize that self-publishing might be how I want to sell this book (I have become addicted to Anne Allen's blog; it has some invaluable advice on so many subjects). It gives me complete control, and that is something very important to me. I have given myself a deadline: If I cannot find an agent or a publisher to represent or sell this book by Jan.1^st, 2015, I will go headfirst, full-throttle into self-publishing. And just for fun, in case I do choose that route, I wanted to be ready, so I had a cover made up. And after seeing it, I honestly wish January would just get here, already.

Thanks, James at goonwrite.com. He did a great job.

And just in case you want a reference point, I have included the synopsis I have been sending to agents.

After fifteen-year-old Kara Price is raped by the beloved mayor of Heartsridge, Massachusetts, and no one takes action, the people of this small New England town discover a truth that may have been better left buried.

Cicada Spring is a 103,000-word suspense-thriller about a teenage girl’s fight for redemption, after her life is shattered by a prominent small-town politician. Fargo meets A Time to Kill when nefarious and heartfelt storylines collide and interconnect, culminating in an unforeseen conclusion about revenge, courage, unconditional love, and life after loss.

Cicada Spring is the story of a wicked crime told from the various viewpoints of the morally-haunted characters surrounding it. There’s the mayor, Harry Bennett, who can do no wrong in the eyes of the town. No one believes he could commit the crime of which he is accused. He’s their golden boy, after all. But a violent history lurks in his past. There's Sheriff Gaines, the law at the center of it all, who is bound by the rules and plagued by a guilty conscience. He wants to do the right thing, but first he needs to decide what that is. There’s David Price, the quiet, level-headed man and father, who only wants justice for his daughter—no matter what it costs. There's a serial killer in the midst of an identity crisis, who has just discovered his next victim at a small diner in Heartsridge—and whose arrival couldn’t have come at a worse time: the start of the annual Spring Festival. Then, at the center of it all, there's Kara, who just wants to move on with her life and forget everything that happened to her. But how can she do that when everyone in town thinks she is a liar who is only out for attention? Braided together, this cast of characters, all acting on behalf of their own interests, begs the question: How far would you go to protect your own?



Rejection: Take Your Licks and Move On

You need a thick skin if you're going to be a writer. There's no way around it. If you plan on finding any sort of success with writing—with anything you're truly passionate about, really—be prepared to be rejected dozens, if not hundreds, of times. But it's okay. Have no fear, dear readers. Think of rejection as a rite of passage that confirms two things: you are a part of the human race; and you are participating. That second acknowledgment is an important one. Participation is key: You have to be willing to play if you want to win. I know that sounds terribly cliché (because it is), but it's true.

Don't get ahead of yourself, though. I know what you're thinking. Hands on your hips, chest pushed out, full of all the youthful exuberance of a new writer, you want to scream to the writing gods: I'm not afraid of you! Bring it on, muchacho! I'll play your damn game! 

Whoa. All right. I like your enthusiasm but slow down, partner, participation comes at a cost, you innocent sweet foolish child. Do not forget that if you are prepared to walk onto the same field that the professionals play on, then you are an eligible player and fair game for full contact hits. Sorry, them's the terms. And sometimes those hits will hurt, and probably make you want to quit and limp off the field, helmet in hand and tail between your legs. You won't, though, right? Promise me you won't. Try to remember that in writing, much like in life, it's all about stepping outside your comfort zone. That's where all important growth occurs, after all.

Now, if you're willing to accept the consequences that come with playing with the big dogs, go ahead and call yourself a writer. Go ahead. Really. No one will judge you. You've always wanted to, anyway, so do it. You’re starting where most of the pros did, navigating the same obstacles, and experiencing the same heartbreak they all did when they were cutting their teeth. So why not measure yourself accordingly? You've earned it merely by agreeing to participate. Even if you have never made a dime with your writing, if you are in the game, go ahead and call yourself a writer. Deal? Okay, good.

The willingness to throw yourself into the ring, outmatched, outweighed, and still wet behind the ears, to put up your dukes and give it your best when the odds are stacked against you, is a crucial first step in every writer's—every human's—journey. And I know you'll go out there hungry, full of piss and vinegar, ready take on the world, but chances are the first few bouts will not go to you, the underdog—the writing industry is a tough, skilled opponent that has seen all your tricks before (it's also an industry filled with fierce competition)—but hey, at least you're fighting, right? And if you're willing to fight, to get back up when you get knocked down, you stand a chance. That's all you can ask for—a chance. You just need to learn how to take a hit and continue forward unshaken, until an opportunity presents itself and you get to land a few punches of your own. Tired of the sports metaphors? Me too. I'll rein it in.

Being rejected stings any way you look at it, but the wounds are superficial and non-life-threatening, I promise. They are like small paper cuts inflicted upon the ego: They will make you wince, but in the end there's hardly any blood, and they heal fast. There are probably close to one hundred rejections—each one a layer of the callous every writer eventually forms over the years—saved in my email folder, and I'm still here and still writing. Nothing will ever change that. You know why? Because I am a writer. That's what I was built to do. Any professional will be quick, if not proud, to reveal that somewhere in their writing space is a collection of rejection letters. They are like battle scars that tell the story of a hard journey, and in some future time you will have your own collection of battle scars to look at and a tale of a hard, but worthwhile, journey to revel in.

So, how does one deal with the temporary hurt of being rejected? I offer the mindset I have always used to cope with any unavoidable, difficult reality that one must face repeatedly: It never gets easier, you only get used to it. And I firmly believe this. You will never open an email or a letter from an editor and read the dreaded words "not a good fit" or "not what I'm looking for at the moment" and be filled with anything other than a bitter twinge of disappointment. The important part is that you allow yourself a moment to grieve. Feel the emotion, don't fight it. Let it flow through you. Then, after a few beers and few moments of self-loathing, put it behind you and move on. Set your sights on the next one. And there will be many more "next ones.”

For a great article about the manuscript submission process and dealing with rejection, click here. 

A Glimpse Inside

If I’m going to write a blog about writing—and more importantly my experiences with the craft—I think it’s fair to first let you, dear readers, into my head a little. Perhaps offering a glimpse into what the writing process is like for me will be illuminating for the both of us. If nothing else, I get to talk about myself for a few paragraphs, and I’m okay with that.

 After a little bit of digging, I managed to find a short piece I wrote a few years back about what writing was like for me when I was first starting out (I don’t know why I thought I was qualified to offer any insights into writing, nor do I know why I felt anyone cared, but I did it, so that’s what happened). And I think it’s safe to say that while my writing has improved over the years, my thoughts on the subject have not changed a great deal: I am still full of the insecure fears that plagued me when I first started. The only real difference is that now, armed with a couple of tricks and the self-reassurance that first drafts usually are garbage,  I find myself a tad more equipped to handle myself against the blank white page. Take a look below but be gentle—you’re in my head, after all. At the very least, wipe your damn feet.

 * * * * *

For me, the time spent at the keyboard in front of the blank page is horror—a world full of fear. Fear of having nothing interesting to say. Fear of giving up. Fear of not being good enough. Sometimes it feels so utterly impossible a thing to create what was never there before. I have no recollection of ever being able to do it with any sort of confidence, and, even worse, if by some chance I had been able to do it, I have no hope of ever being able to do it again. But still I try. I have to. To not would be suicide. So I start, fingers poised over the keys, waiting on some brilliant flash of genius to flow through me and make what I'm trying to do seem like a gift from God, rather than a craft that requires hard work, sweat, and a willingness to fail and fall flat on your face more times than any sane person would ever care to endure.

The divine flash never comes—it never has and never will. If I’ve learned anything since I began writing, it is this: Writers are not mediums. They do not channel inspiration; they find it and excavate it. They are creators and determined hard workers. The successful ones are willing to show up every day and put in the hours. That’s it. So I will start, as I always do, the only way I know how: one key at a time, which turns into one word, which becomes a sentence. A few of those and we’re in business. Hey, this ain’t so bad, after all. But I forget we’re just getting started.

I'm in a room now, an impossibly dark and deep room. This place is my writing space, and the time away from it has been like staring into the sun for days: It’s dulled my vision, made me blind, and made this dim space I've spent so much time in appear darker and more foreign than it truly is. But there is a feeling, a knowing that this space has light—or at least the promise of it. So I do the only thing I can: I start moving around the room, clumsy and slow at first. We must crawl before we can walk, I tell myself. So I crawl, desperately but steadily. Finally, after banging my shin on a few things, stubbing a toe or two, the risk pays off, and I find a wall—something familiar to lean on. It isn't much, but it's enough to give me hope. It's a feeling I've felt before and grown to love. I continue to fumble in the darkness, looking for a light switch on the wall, a doorknob, a hinge, more familiarity. And right when I think it will never come, it does. I find a corner, and it's comforting. I stand in it for a moment and get my bearings, allow the small victory to soothe my worry. I'm beginning to map the area in my mind now, learning where to go and, more importantly, where not to go. My vision is slowly coming back, and the darkness fades to light with every strike of the keys. I'm not actually moving about the room anymore. In fact I never was. I'm moving about the page, always have been. I’m trying to feel my way around it, trying to find something I can anchor to, something to make the task which lies ahead of me seem a little less intimidating. From time to time, the fear that this will never happen is overwhelming, but I push past it. I have to. If I can't, I might as well chop off my fingers and douse my keyboard in kerosene. Let it burn.

After some time, I find what I'm looking for, and it is the best kind of discovery: the door on the page. The door to the story. I don't know where it will lead, but I know it will lead somewhere—it always does. Even when it seems like it won't, by God it does. I walk through it, and I'm no longer sitting at the keys; I'm in the story and letting it show me what it is. My only job now is to be there as it happens, so I can record it as accurately as it deserves. I am merely a witness. This is the place I want to be. I love it here. I can only hope that when I leave again—even if it's only for the briefest of moments—I can remember how to get back.