Today, The Accidental Activist is officially launched at the Northern California Independent Booksellers Association. The tree-book is up on Amazon and the e-book will soon follow. Oilspill dotcom is being withdrawn from all outlets. Hold on to yours - it is about to become a collectors' item!
The Accidental Activist is essentially the same story. New title, new cover and the text has been raked over by Three Clover Press editors and the language tightened.
Countdown to a Novel Published, sadly neglected over the past couple of months will stay dormant. As part of the terms with Three Clover Press, my publisher, I am committed to posting every day at Left Coast Voices.
The focus on blogging as a way to bring traffic to my website and selling pages for my books is intriguing. For those authors who stay the course, the results are clear and, best of all, encouraging. You can't argue with statistics and sales. I certainly won't.
Over the past year, I have jumped from one marketing option to another. I have read in bookstores and community centers but these have been very time consuming with little return. The consignment game played with small independent bookstores is depressing. It's not their fault, but there are serious cracks in the system.
So it is an ending of sorts, a parting of ways from Oilspill dotcom and Countdown to a Novel Published. It's been a great journey, a learning experience and now both the book and my resolve as an author are more focused and more optimistic.
Hope to see you at Left Coast Voices. Leave me a comment - it's not quite a conversation over cappuccino, but let's keep in touch.
Good Writing,
Alon
Showing posts with label oilspill. Show all posts
Showing posts with label oilspill. Show all posts
Friday, October 15, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
New Book, New Cover!
Oilspill dotcom will be withdrawn on October 15th and reissued by Three Clover Press with the new title: The Accidental Activist.
The Accidental Activist will be launched at the Northern Californian Independent Booksellers Association's trade show on that date.
More details will be forthcoming in the next few weeks. Please click here to see the new cover. Thanks Lily for all your hard work and a great job.
Good Writing,
Alon
http://www.alonshalev.com/
The Accidental Activist will be launched at the Northern Californian Independent Booksellers Association's trade show on that date.
More details will be forthcoming in the next few weeks. Please click here to see the new cover. Thanks Lily for all your hard work and a great job.
Good Writing,
Alon
http://www.alonshalev.com/
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Two Worlds Converge
Tomorrow I will be selling my book, Oilspill dotcom, at the San Francisco Jewish Community Center Book Festival. I am excited. The festival is about Jewish literature, and not Jewish authors, and since Oilspill dotcom doesn't have any Jewish content, I count myself lucky to be there.
I have been allowed in through the back door because my full-time job is as the head of a Jewish non-profit which is seen as a vital component in the Jewish Community - The San Francisco Hillel provides educational opportunities and support for Jewish students in a part of the US where it isn't always easy to be openly Jewish on campus.
My claim with the bookseller at the festival is that I am a recognizable figure and plan to hang out by the book table.
This is true. But it also brings up another issue. I have never exploited this circle of influence to market myself as an author of political fiction. When I launched the book, I certainly told everyone and have received varying degrees of support from students, fellow staff and stakeholders. I could have pushed for more coverage, for readings, and included more plugs in my correspondents and updates.
But generally I have kept the worlds apart. I'm not sure why. I doubt that even those who might take issue with my view of multinational corporations would hold it against me in my work at SF Hillel.
I do believe that part of my drive to write novels that spotlight and challenge social injustices comes from the emphasis that Judaism puts on Tikkun Olam - fixing the world.
So on Sunday I will wear my smarter work clothes to ensure I am recognized and will discuss political literature alongside Jewish identity, look for common ground, and hopefully sell a few books in the process.
Good Writing,
Alon
http://www.alonshalev.com/
I have been allowed in through the back door because my full-time job is as the head of a Jewish non-profit which is seen as a vital component in the Jewish Community - The San Francisco Hillel provides educational opportunities and support for Jewish students in a part of the US where it isn't always easy to be openly Jewish on campus.
My claim with the bookseller at the festival is that I am a recognizable figure and plan to hang out by the book table.
This is true. But it also brings up another issue. I have never exploited this circle of influence to market myself as an author of political fiction. When I launched the book, I certainly told everyone and have received varying degrees of support from students, fellow staff and stakeholders. I could have pushed for more coverage, for readings, and included more plugs in my correspondents and updates.
But generally I have kept the worlds apart. I'm not sure why. I doubt that even those who might take issue with my view of multinational corporations would hold it against me in my work at SF Hillel.
I do believe that part of my drive to write novels that spotlight and challenge social injustices comes from the emphasis that Judaism puts on Tikkun Olam - fixing the world.
So on Sunday I will wear my smarter work clothes to ensure I am recognized and will discuss political literature alongside Jewish identity, look for common ground, and hopefully sell a few books in the process.
Good Writing,
Alon
http://www.alonshalev.com/
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Vacation - A Time to Chill
My first month since Oilspill dotcom was published has been a rollercoaster. The highs of seeing the book move up the Amazon.com rankings and the excitement of the book launch party at The Bread Workshop in Berkeley. Both were very successful.
Since then it has become more challenging. I have spent the last few weeks trying to garner interviews, author meetups and generally networking beyond the Bay Area bubble.
Perhaps it is the slowing pace of the summer months, the call of vacation, but everything seems slower and more difficult. And, in truth, I am feeling it too. I thought it was the anti-climax after the excitement of the first month, but perhaps there is an accumulating exhaustion, trying to juggle a new commitment amidst the general chaos of a challenging full time job, a young family, and the desire to keep writing.
I need to find a way of incorporating the marketing of Oilspill dotcom, into an already packed everyday routine, without it taking the fun out of writing and being an author.
I am going on vacation and when I return, I will create a more realistic marketing plan, one that is sustainable and compatible to my everyday life. I do not intend to blog over the next few weeks, but take a break both physically and mentally. On my family vacation I plan to write, just get back to being creative, and getting the energy back.
After all, this is what a vacation is about. And marketing Oilspill dotcom can wait two weeks. In order not to burn out, I need to remember that this is a marathon, not a sprint.
See ya’ all in a few weeks.
Alon
http://www.alonshalev.com/
Since then it has become more challenging. I have spent the last few weeks trying to garner interviews, author meetups and generally networking beyond the Bay Area bubble.
Perhaps it is the slowing pace of the summer months, the call of vacation, but everything seems slower and more difficult. And, in truth, I am feeling it too. I thought it was the anti-climax after the excitement of the first month, but perhaps there is an accumulating exhaustion, trying to juggle a new commitment amidst the general chaos of a challenging full time job, a young family, and the desire to keep writing.
I need to find a way of incorporating the marketing of Oilspill dotcom, into an already packed everyday routine, without it taking the fun out of writing and being an author.
I am going on vacation and when I return, I will create a more realistic marketing plan, one that is sustainable and compatible to my everyday life. I do not intend to blog over the next few weeks, but take a break both physically and mentally. On my family vacation I plan to write, just get back to being creative, and getting the energy back.
After all, this is what a vacation is about. And marketing Oilspill dotcom can wait two weeks. In order not to burn out, I need to remember that this is a marathon, not a sprint.
See ya’ all in a few weeks.
Alon
http://www.alonshalev.com/
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Update on Launch: Oilspill dotcom
Friends and colleagues who are following this blog and the approaching launch of my novel Oilspill dotcom have asked for an update. This is, after all, the point of the blog.
The book is ready and out there. With my birthday approaching (June 12th) I have decided to make the announcement in the week leading up and will ask friends and colleagues to consider purchasing the book on amazon.com on June 12th. The idea is that I will be able to secure an amazon.com ranking as a birthday present.
My book launch will be the following week on Saturday, June 20th at 7.30pm. It will be hosted at The Bread Workshop (1398 University Avenue), a typical local Berkeley creation. In their own words:
The Bread Workshop creates sustainable food in a context that is community oriented. The community includes customers, neighborhood, schools, workers, vendors and producers. We are also dedicated to understanding sustainability; environmentally; socially; and economically. In doing this we are developing a cohesive logic in deciding what is sustainable or not so that we can maintain a truly sustainable production and integrate it into society.
I have a plan to avoid forcing my guests to listen to me and I am on the lookout for people with English accents (actually a Northerner, a Scotsman and some Londoners), if you fancy your acting talents. No Oscar nominations, but the appreciation of a struggling writer.
I would like to hold a launch party the following week in San Francisco and am looking for a venue. Any ideas?
For now, my time is being spent on press releases and designing promotional items (?), social networking, promoting my website (www.alonshalev.com) and, of course, my blog. I find this all to be exhilarating. It is where I have wanted to be.
But I am also itching to return to writing. There is another novel completed which, while I am very proud of it, is in dire need of some severe editing. And then there is a firm idea for the next novel and a desire to lose myself at the keyboard.
Good Writing,
Alon
The book is ready and out there. With my birthday approaching (June 12th) I have decided to make the announcement in the week leading up and will ask friends and colleagues to consider purchasing the book on amazon.com on June 12th. The idea is that I will be able to secure an amazon.com ranking as a birthday present.
My book launch will be the following week on Saturday, June 20th at 7.30pm. It will be hosted at The Bread Workshop (1398 University Avenue), a typical local Berkeley creation. In their own words:
The Bread Workshop creates sustainable food in a context that is community oriented. The community includes customers, neighborhood, schools, workers, vendors and producers. We are also dedicated to understanding sustainability; environmentally; socially; and economically. In doing this we are developing a cohesive logic in deciding what is sustainable or not so that we can maintain a truly sustainable production and integrate it into society.
I have a plan to avoid forcing my guests to listen to me and I am on the lookout for people with English accents (actually a Northerner, a Scotsman and some Londoners), if you fancy your acting talents. No Oscar nominations, but the appreciation of a struggling writer.
I would like to hold a launch party the following week in San Francisco and am looking for a venue. Any ideas?
For now, my time is being spent on press releases and designing promotional items (?), social networking, promoting my website (www.alonshalev.com) and, of course, my blog. I find this all to be exhilarating. It is where I have wanted to be.
But I am also itching to return to writing. There is another novel completed which, while I am very proud of it, is in dire need of some severe editing. And then there is a firm idea for the next novel and a desire to lose myself at the keyboard.
Good Writing,
Alon
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Death to the Publishing Industry: Long Live the Publishing Industry!
Two weeks ago I wrote about the pitfalls of an author receiving a large advance. Despite the feedback I received, I am still convinced that the up-and-coming author would be better off rejecting a $20K advance and asking the publisher to invest that money in book promotion. And yes, I am still waiting for a publisher to test my resolve!
But there is another principle, another cornerstone of the publishing industry that I wish to vilify: The Principle of Returns. In any other industry, the shop can return a product to the manufacturer if it proves defective or damaged. A bookstore can return a book if…it doesn’t sell.
Where is the responsibility? Your average big bookstore will stock around 100,000 books in their store, while taking responsibility to promote only a few. Why should they put any effort into selling any but a select number, when they always have the option of returning the books and receiving a full refund? Barnes & Noble, I understand, are taking a lead in responsible book ordering and trying to find a more sustainable model.
This has two major effects. Firstly, there are way too many trees being cut down unnecessarily and energy being wastefully expended on production (I admit that I have not yet felt a desire to purchase a Kindle or other electronic reader, despite being a fervent environmentalist and Star Trek fan – where do you think the idea came from?).
The second issue is that such a policy is blatantly discriminatory to the smaller and independent publisher, who can often receive a book returned a couple of years later. Such business practices are strangling the smaller publishers and creating a fearful environment of huge corporations that base their decisions exclusively on the bottom line.
Last month, I attended a talk by Charlotte Cook, president of KOMENAR Publishing, a small independent company, at the California Writers Club (Berkeley branch). Ms. Cook spoke about how they often receive returns up to four years after ‘selling’ a book.
But what most annoyed me was Ms. Cook’s account of a recent booksellers’ conference to which several workshops focused on teaching booksellers how to improve a returns instead of payment strategy in. Certainly booksellers who hadn't previously considered returns as a legitimate and productive business tactic, may well have left the conference thinking why not?
Like Ms. Cook, I am left pondering: why did they not offer workshops on, perhaps, how to promote and sell a book?
I have heard rumors that there are a number of well-placed people in the industry who want to abolish the returns policy, and that they are exploring the idea of creating a publishing house that will not work on this premise.
I have no idea where this stands, and have to admire the courage of anyone in this economic climate who would consider leaving a secure job to set up a new business while challenging one of the sacred cows of the industry, even if it is time to put that cow out to pasture.
Good Writing,
Alon
Btw - I am five days away from holding a copy of Oilspill dotcom in my hands.
Also thank you to those who offered feedback about my website (http://www.alonshalev.com). I really appreciate your input.
But there is another principle, another cornerstone of the publishing industry that I wish to vilify: The Principle of Returns. In any other industry, the shop can return a product to the manufacturer if it proves defective or damaged. A bookstore can return a book if…it doesn’t sell.
Where is the responsibility? Your average big bookstore will stock around 100,000 books in their store, while taking responsibility to promote only a few. Why should they put any effort into selling any but a select number, when they always have the option of returning the books and receiving a full refund? Barnes & Noble, I understand, are taking a lead in responsible book ordering and trying to find a more sustainable model.
This has two major effects. Firstly, there are way too many trees being cut down unnecessarily and energy being wastefully expended on production (I admit that I have not yet felt a desire to purchase a Kindle or other electronic reader, despite being a fervent environmentalist and Star Trek fan – where do you think the idea came from?).
The second issue is that such a policy is blatantly discriminatory to the smaller and independent publisher, who can often receive a book returned a couple of years later. Such business practices are strangling the smaller publishers and creating a fearful environment of huge corporations that base their decisions exclusively on the bottom line.
Last month, I attended a talk by Charlotte Cook, president of KOMENAR Publishing, a small independent company, at the California Writers Club (Berkeley branch). Ms. Cook spoke about how they often receive returns up to four years after ‘selling’ a book.
But what most annoyed me was Ms. Cook’s account of a recent booksellers’ conference to which several workshops focused on teaching booksellers how to improve a returns instead of payment strategy in. Certainly booksellers who hadn't previously considered returns as a legitimate and productive business tactic, may well have left the conference thinking why not?
Like Ms. Cook, I am left pondering: why did they not offer workshops on, perhaps, how to promote and sell a book?
I have heard rumors that there are a number of well-placed people in the industry who want to abolish the returns policy, and that they are exploring the idea of creating a publishing house that will not work on this premise.
I have no idea where this stands, and have to admire the courage of anyone in this economic climate who would consider leaving a secure job to set up a new business while challenging one of the sacred cows of the industry, even if it is time to put that cow out to pasture.
Good Writing,
Alon
Btw - I am five days away from holding a copy of Oilspill dotcom in my hands.
Also thank you to those who offered feedback about my website (http://www.alonshalev.com). I really appreciate your input.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Advancing Backwards
I’ll admit it upfront. No publisher has ever offered me a $100K advance, a $20K advance, or even much more than the time of day. So I can make no claim that I would stand by this blog entry should the occasion ever arise.
It was not long ago that the author’s worth was measured by the size of the advance that s/he received. Newspapers, with apparently little else to report, headlined the latest six-figure deal. I can’t help thinking that there are parallels to the housing and credit crises – money was offered/promised without any real foundation to back up whether such assumptions would play out.
The advance is essentially an advance on future sales. If a book sells for $4, the author receives a dollar on each book, and a $20K advance, s/he needs to sell 20,000 copies to be deemed successful (probably within 4-6 months). Failing this, s/he is deemed a failure in the eyes of the publishing world.
Had the same author not received an advance and sold 15,000 copies, the publisher would probably have been happy, seen potential in building this author’s platform or visibility, and gone with a second or third book. Chances are that this author would also have worked considerably harder to promote and market his/her book.
I also suspect, though I claim no inside knowledge, that the often suicidal bidding wars on the rights to an author have helped lead to the destabilization of the publishing market and the disappearance of so many publishing houses.
I have heard that a number of insiders from the publishing world are considering forming a new publishing house based upon the principle of not giving advances. Good luck to them, I say, and here’s my website (www.alonshalev.com) if you’re looking for more than just a fan.
Oh, and anyone out there who wants to test my resolve with an audacious offer – same website.
BTW – Oilspill dotcom is now officially in Acquisitions phase. I’m not sure what this means, but I understand that I am only a week or so away from holding a physical copy in my hands!
Good Writing,
Alon
http://www.alonshalev.com
It was not long ago that the author’s worth was measured by the size of the advance that s/he received. Newspapers, with apparently little else to report, headlined the latest six-figure deal. I can’t help thinking that there are parallels to the housing and credit crises – money was offered/promised without any real foundation to back up whether such assumptions would play out.
The advance is essentially an advance on future sales. If a book sells for $4, the author receives a dollar on each book, and a $20K advance, s/he needs to sell 20,000 copies to be deemed successful (probably within 4-6 months). Failing this, s/he is deemed a failure in the eyes of the publishing world.
Had the same author not received an advance and sold 15,000 copies, the publisher would probably have been happy, seen potential in building this author’s platform or visibility, and gone with a second or third book. Chances are that this author would also have worked considerably harder to promote and market his/her book.
I also suspect, though I claim no inside knowledge, that the often suicidal bidding wars on the rights to an author have helped lead to the destabilization of the publishing market and the disappearance of so many publishing houses.
I have heard that a number of insiders from the publishing world are considering forming a new publishing house based upon the principle of not giving advances. Good luck to them, I say, and here’s my website (www.alonshalev.com) if you’re looking for more than just a fan.
Oh, and anyone out there who wants to test my resolve with an audacious offer – same website.
BTW – Oilspill dotcom is now officially in Acquisitions phase. I’m not sure what this means, but I understand that I am only a week or so away from holding a physical copy in my hands!
Good Writing,
Alon
http://www.alonshalev.com
Friday, February 6, 2009
Looks Are Everything
Never judge a book by its cover.
We’ve all heard it before, possibly said it ourselves, but in the context of book promotion, people do judge a book by its cover. Usually it is a subconscious response, but we seem to make some pretty conclusive decisions in a matter of seconds.
Picture yourself perusing along the shelves at your favorite independent bookstore. A book catches your eye, probably from the title as it is revealed on the spine of the book. You pick up the book, glance at the cover and then, hopefully, turn it over to read the blurbs and synopsis on the back cover.
What happens in that glance at the front cover that either prompts the reader to turn to the back cover or return the book to the shelf? Is there a magic formula that we need to consider when designing our book cover?
I believe that the cursory glance needs to take in enough symbolism to understand the genre, the right color to set the mood, and then just maybe something that triggers a sense of inquiry, whether based on past experience or present interests.
This week I received the first designs for my book cover. While undoubtedly a complex work of art, I felt terribly alienated from what the artist was trying to convey. The colors were dark and sinister, with a daunting oil rig and other smart ideas such as seashells in bedrock. The idea was clearly taken from the title of the book, Oilspill dotcom, and the artist was trying to convey the malevolent nature of multinational corporations. Even the title, written in a thick black font had drops of oil falling from it.
But I want the book to convey inspiration and hope, the true message of my novel. I want a light color and clear images of a computer screen and either a gavel or scales of justice to show that this is a courtroom drama.
What really worries me is: what do I know? I am an author, with no expertise in art or marketing. The cover designer is no doubt a professional, but can s/he understand the message I, as the author, am trying to convey?
I believe in professionalism and earlier made up my mind that I would accept the changes suggested when my manuscript was being professionally edited. But there is something about the cover design that seems so personal, so fateful. In the end I need to be able to hold up the book – whether to a consumer, to a group I’m addressing, or on Oprah (let me dream) and say: This is my book.
Good Writing,
Alon
We’ve all heard it before, possibly said it ourselves, but in the context of book promotion, people do judge a book by its cover. Usually it is a subconscious response, but we seem to make some pretty conclusive decisions in a matter of seconds.
Picture yourself perusing along the shelves at your favorite independent bookstore. A book catches your eye, probably from the title as it is revealed on the spine of the book. You pick up the book, glance at the cover and then, hopefully, turn it over to read the blurbs and synopsis on the back cover.
What happens in that glance at the front cover that either prompts the reader to turn to the back cover or return the book to the shelf? Is there a magic formula that we need to consider when designing our book cover?
I believe that the cursory glance needs to take in enough symbolism to understand the genre, the right color to set the mood, and then just maybe something that triggers a sense of inquiry, whether based on past experience or present interests.
This week I received the first designs for my book cover. While undoubtedly a complex work of art, I felt terribly alienated from what the artist was trying to convey. The colors were dark and sinister, with a daunting oil rig and other smart ideas such as seashells in bedrock. The idea was clearly taken from the title of the book, Oilspill dotcom, and the artist was trying to convey the malevolent nature of multinational corporations. Even the title, written in a thick black font had drops of oil falling from it.
But I want the book to convey inspiration and hope, the true message of my novel. I want a light color and clear images of a computer screen and either a gavel or scales of justice to show that this is a courtroom drama.
What really worries me is: what do I know? I am an author, with no expertise in art or marketing. The cover designer is no doubt a professional, but can s/he understand the message I, as the author, am trying to convey?
I believe in professionalism and earlier made up my mind that I would accept the changes suggested when my manuscript was being professionally edited. But there is something about the cover design that seems so personal, so fateful. In the end I need to be able to hold up the book – whether to a consumer, to a group I’m addressing, or on Oprah (let me dream) and say: This is my book.
Good Writing,
Alon
Sunday, January 25, 2009
The Author's Website
With Oilspill dotcom safely in the hands of my publisher, I need to turn my attention to marketing and creating a wide Internet presence. Clearly, a website that promotes my books and me as an author, is the first task.
Many moons ago, I went through a time of building websites for fun – remember What You See Is What You Get (WYSIWYG)? – and had a lot of fun doing them. None of them exist anymore and I should probably be relieved. They were philosophical, world changing, and political. I can’t remember much about them.
This time it’s different. An author’s website sets his persona. S/he either sees her/himself as a professional or s/he doesn’t – and you can tell by their website.
I’ve spent a couple of evenings perusing through authors web pages. Some are impressive: others are not. The clear dilemma: do I pass it on to a professional and pay from my limited financial resources budgeted, or do I try and do-it-myself?
The first people of good advice that I received was to ensure that whatever is created, I will be able to enter and easily update by myself – add reviews (the good ones!), interviews, announcements of awards garnered (let me enjoy myself for a moment – it’s cold, gray and raining right now!).
Thankfully there seems to be some middle ground. I have found a couple of interesting companies that cater for authors:
Web for Authors (http://www.webforauthors.com),
The Author’s Guild (http://www.authorsguild.net/),
and Authors Tree (http://authortree.com/)
I have a good resource book that I want to share with you: The Author’s Guide to Building an Online Platform – Stephanie Chandler. At first glance Chandler’s book seems very no nonsense and I suspect that it will be well worn before it begins to gather dust on my bookshelf.
Finally, I would like to share with you some of the author’s websites that have most impressed me so far in terms of design and content. By this I mean sites that I have gleaned ideas from:
Michelle Gagnon http://www.michellegagnon.com/
Robert Dugoni http://www.robertdugoni.com/
Michelle Richmond http://michellerichmond.com/
And of course, one of my heroes …
John Grisham http://www.jgrisham.com/
Let me know what you think of these sites, any advice you might have, and any novel ideas for content on the site. I do need help.
Good Writing,
Alon
Many moons ago, I went through a time of building websites for fun – remember What You See Is What You Get (WYSIWYG)? – and had a lot of fun doing them. None of them exist anymore and I should probably be relieved. They were philosophical, world changing, and political. I can’t remember much about them.
This time it’s different. An author’s website sets his persona. S/he either sees her/himself as a professional or s/he doesn’t – and you can tell by their website.
I’ve spent a couple of evenings perusing through authors web pages. Some are impressive: others are not. The clear dilemma: do I pass it on to a professional and pay from my limited financial resources budgeted, or do I try and do-it-myself?
The first people of good advice that I received was to ensure that whatever is created, I will be able to enter and easily update by myself – add reviews (the good ones!), interviews, announcements of awards garnered (let me enjoy myself for a moment – it’s cold, gray and raining right now!).
Thankfully there seems to be some middle ground. I have found a couple of interesting companies that cater for authors:
Web for Authors (http://www.webforauthors.com),
The Author’s Guild (http://www.authorsguild.net/),
and Authors Tree (http://authortree.com/)
I have a good resource book that I want to share with you: The Author’s Guide to Building an Online Platform – Stephanie Chandler. At first glance Chandler’s book seems very no nonsense and I suspect that it will be well worn before it begins to gather dust on my bookshelf.
Finally, I would like to share with you some of the author’s websites that have most impressed me so far in terms of design and content. By this I mean sites that I have gleaned ideas from:
Michelle Gagnon http://www.michellegagnon.com/
Robert Dugoni http://www.robertdugoni.com/
Michelle Richmond http://michellerichmond.com/
And of course, one of my heroes …
John Grisham http://www.jgrisham.com/
Let me know what you think of these sites, any advice you might have, and any novel ideas for content on the site. I do need help.
Good Writing,
Alon
Friday, January 16, 2009
The Empty Nest!
It’s gone! Left home!
My little manuscript, all bundled up, with its lunchbox full of meaningful prose, backpack full of plot and suspense, gone. It walked out of my computer and made its way to the publisher. It was so quick – an attachment, a few answers and the click of the enter button.
It’s grown up so fast. It seems like only yesterday when I was staring at a blank screen, when the first couple of chapters were coming into their own, when my plot took its first tentative steps.
Oh those sleepless nights! Oh those sick days with contagious writer’s block! But now its gone. No point perusing over old drafts, regretting scenes that were cut, ideas never added.
But neither is it time to sever the ties. There is still a long process of book size, cover, images, style … And it’s time to seriously lay out a marketing plan.
Oilspill dotcom has left home and is on its way into the big, wide world. I hope it will travel widely, make many new friends (preferably the book-buying type), and even create a reputation for itself.
Bon Voyage – Oilspill dotcom.
Alon
My little manuscript, all bundled up, with its lunchbox full of meaningful prose, backpack full of plot and suspense, gone. It walked out of my computer and made its way to the publisher. It was so quick – an attachment, a few answers and the click of the enter button.
It’s grown up so fast. It seems like only yesterday when I was staring at a blank screen, when the first couple of chapters were coming into their own, when my plot took its first tentative steps.
Oh those sleepless nights! Oh those sick days with contagious writer’s block! But now its gone. No point perusing over old drafts, regretting scenes that were cut, ideas never added.
But neither is it time to sever the ties. There is still a long process of book size, cover, images, style … And it’s time to seriously lay out a marketing plan.
Oilspill dotcom has left home and is on its way into the big, wide world. I hope it will travel widely, make many new friends (preferably the book-buying type), and even create a reputation for itself.
Bon Voyage – Oilspill dotcom.
Alon
Saturday, January 3, 2009
New Year’s Writer’s Resolutions.
I’ve always considered it kind of kitsch – making New Year Resolutions. In fact, every December, I make a pre-New Year’s resolution not to make any next month, but always do. This is based on my struggles and attempts to be efficient and to set goals that guide me through each month. And the reality is that this accountability is what enables me to produce at the level I do, while holding down a demanding job, being held down by the demands of a young family, and demanding from my body to think it is still in its 30's when it isn't.
But there is something empowering about setting goals at the beginning of the year and outing it in Blogosphere. The accountability grow considerably. So here goes:
1) Oilspill dotcom will be published in March.
2) I will hold two launch parties – one in Berkeley and the other in San Francisco
3) I will market intensely until the end of the year, following a marketing program that I will finish developing in January.
4) I will sell 500 copies by the end of the summer.
5) I will continue to edit Lost Heroes (my next novel) and finish it by the end of the summer. I will then spend 6 months shopping it around.
6) I will begin writing something new during the summer.
FINALLY: I will identify myself as an author and seek every opportunity to promote my work and myself.
Wishing everyone a happy and peaceful New Year,
Alon
But there is something empowering about setting goals at the beginning of the year and outing it in Blogosphere. The accountability grow considerably. So here goes:
1) Oilspill dotcom will be published in March.
2) I will hold two launch parties – one in Berkeley and the other in San Francisco
3) I will market intensely until the end of the year, following a marketing program that I will finish developing in January.
4) I will sell 500 copies by the end of the summer.
5) I will continue to edit Lost Heroes (my next novel) and finish it by the end of the summer. I will then spend 6 months shopping it around.
6) I will begin writing something new during the summer.
FINALLY: I will identify myself as an author and seek every opportunity to promote my work and myself.
Wishing everyone a happy and peaceful New Year,
Alon
Friday, December 26, 2008
Over Eggnog - Networking for Blurbs
For the past few weeks, I have been trying to find famous people willing to give me a one-liner for the back cover of Oilspill dotcom. It is called a blurb and is immensely important as the browser in the bookstore, attracted by the cover, will then turn the book over for a quick description of the story and to see who likes it. This is all about credibility, but challenging when you’ve only been in the country a few years, without many contacts.
I have emailed a number of requests to local radio hosts and journalists. Richard Wolinsky, from KPFA’s Cover-to-Cover, has generously offered to read a galley proof. I have sent a request to Christopher Buckley (Thank You For Smoking, No Way To Treat A First Lady, Florence of Arabia, Boomsday and Little Green Men).
An aside -- I fantasize being interviewed on Jon Stewart’s The Daily Show, my favorite TV show, though I always thought he never interviewed fiction authors. Ironically, I am wrong, and this is how I discovered the immensely talented and hilarious Buckley.
I also emailed Erin Brockovich, who famously stood up to a multinational corporation in court. I am excited about hearing anything from her. Who knows?
Do you have anyone who springs to mind that I could approach such as an author, a media person, a political advocate? If so, please ask them if I can drop them an email. Keep me in mind when you schmooze over eggnog at your holiday parties.
Thanks for your help,
Good Writing,
Alon
I have emailed a number of requests to local radio hosts and journalists. Richard Wolinsky, from KPFA’s Cover-to-Cover, has generously offered to read a galley proof. I have sent a request to Christopher Buckley (Thank You For Smoking, No Way To Treat A First Lady, Florence of Arabia, Boomsday and Little Green Men).
An aside -- I fantasize being interviewed on Jon Stewart’s The Daily Show, my favorite TV show, though I always thought he never interviewed fiction authors. Ironically, I am wrong, and this is how I discovered the immensely talented and hilarious Buckley.
I also emailed Erin Brockovich, who famously stood up to a multinational corporation in court. I am excited about hearing anything from her. Who knows?
Do you have anyone who springs to mind that I could approach such as an author, a media person, a political advocate? If so, please ask them if I can drop them an email. Keep me in mind when you schmooze over eggnog at your holiday parties.
Thanks for your help,
Good Writing,
Alon
Saturday, December 6, 2008
"Own It, Then Let It Go."
It is late Friday night. I am driving home on the freeways and bridges that take me around San Francisco and over to the East Bay. I am tired. Physically it has been a long day. But more than this, I am tired mentally. This morning, for the first time in months, I sat down to write, to advance my book, be a writer … and I gave up.
Work is tough, plummeted by the economic downturn, but this is not the reason. I have shared with you my waves of doubts with regard to Oilspill dotcom: the title of my book, UK .v. US English, dialects etc.
There has been a burst of sunlight in this dark, cloudy week. My editor from England, Alison Walters read my blog, my frustrations and has kindly offered to help me finish the conversion from UK to US.
And now, driving home in the dark, I am listening to Writing Down the Bones, read by the author, Natalie Goldberg. Though her book galvanized me eight years ago, I am finding it tough to follow her voice reading and commentating. This is a tough judgment as I am comparing her to the actors and actresses that narrate audio books, utilizing their talents and professional experience to perfect each individual character (listen to Carrington MacDuffie reading Christopher Buckley’s Florence of Arabia – how do they not have Oscars for such performances!).
But it is tough to hear Ms. Goldberg, especially when you are tired, especially when you are cruising along the freeway. Just as I come off of the Bay Bridge, I see a mass of flashing lights: police, ambulances and tow trucks. The accident clears the tired fog from my mind and I hear a sentence from my audio book.
“Own it … and then let it go,” says Ms. Goldberg.
If I’m honest, I’m not sure what she’s actually referring to. But inside, I understand with clarity that she is talking to me. And she is telling me why I got stuck this morning; why I sat paralyzed before the computer screen.
I must let it go. I have finished.
When Alison returns my manuscript, I will accept her corrections and submit the manuscript.
Then I will move on: to the book cover, the reviews and blurbs, the plans for the launch. And I will allow myself to write again. Perhaps my next novel, Lost Heroes, perhaps something else.
But I will finish with Oilspill dotcom: cast it into the hands of the publisher. Let the manuscript become the book. I have done all I can. I own it. Now it is time to let it go.
Thank you, Natalie Goldberg.
Work is tough, plummeted by the economic downturn, but this is not the reason. I have shared with you my waves of doubts with regard to Oilspill dotcom: the title of my book, UK .v. US English, dialects etc.
There has been a burst of sunlight in this dark, cloudy week. My editor from England, Alison Walters read my blog, my frustrations and has kindly offered to help me finish the conversion from UK to US.
And now, driving home in the dark, I am listening to Writing Down the Bones, read by the author, Natalie Goldberg. Though her book galvanized me eight years ago, I am finding it tough to follow her voice reading and commentating. This is a tough judgment as I am comparing her to the actors and actresses that narrate audio books, utilizing their talents and professional experience to perfect each individual character (listen to Carrington MacDuffie reading Christopher Buckley’s Florence of Arabia – how do they not have Oscars for such performances!).
But it is tough to hear Ms. Goldberg, especially when you are tired, especially when you are cruising along the freeway. Just as I come off of the Bay Bridge, I see a mass of flashing lights: police, ambulances and tow trucks. The accident clears the tired fog from my mind and I hear a sentence from my audio book.
“Own it … and then let it go,” says Ms. Goldberg.
If I’m honest, I’m not sure what she’s actually referring to. But inside, I understand with clarity that she is talking to me. And she is telling me why I got stuck this morning; why I sat paralyzed before the computer screen.
I must let it go. I have finished.
When Alison returns my manuscript, I will accept her corrections and submit the manuscript.
Then I will move on: to the book cover, the reviews and blurbs, the plans for the launch. And I will allow myself to write again. Perhaps my next novel, Lost Heroes, perhaps something else.
But I will finish with Oilspill dotcom: cast it into the hands of the publisher. Let the manuscript become the book. I have done all I can. I own it. Now it is time to let it go.
Thank you, Natalie Goldberg.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
What’s in a Name?
Some authors spend days or months agonizing over the title of their book and for good reason. How many of us have picked up a book caught by an intriguing title, or for that matter, passed over a book because the title didn’t engage us? How many of us have looked up a book that someone had mentioned or we’d read in passing, thankfully remembering the name?
The original title, Oilspill.com, came to me pretty naturally. The novel deals with an oil company and the emergence of the Internet through a website that my protagonist creates, at a time when interactive website advocacy was non-existent. The website is what enables the heroes to stand up for themselves in court and battle a top legal team employed by the multinational.
The problem with this title is that it is a website of a company that cleans up … oil spills. The first time I put out an email telling the world about my book, I’m sure the company mentioned received quite a few hits on their website.
And so I changed the title to Oilspill Dotcom, but this surfaced as one of the doubts that I mentioned in my last post. Is Oilspill Dotcom, in particular Dotcom, a recognizable (and memorable) word? Would it confuse the customer, prevent them remembering it and knowing how to order or search for it?
So my latest idea (Alan Rinzler’s actually) is one word: Oilspilldotcom. I hope it is easier to remember, easier to visualize and even … memorable?
What do you think? I would love to receive some feedback. I have another week or so before I’ll need to make a final decision, but it’s a big decision. It’s all in the name.
Good Writing,
Alon
The original title, Oilspill.com, came to me pretty naturally. The novel deals with an oil company and the emergence of the Internet through a website that my protagonist creates, at a time when interactive website advocacy was non-existent. The website is what enables the heroes to stand up for themselves in court and battle a top legal team employed by the multinational.
The problem with this title is that it is a website of a company that cleans up … oil spills. The first time I put out an email telling the world about my book, I’m sure the company mentioned received quite a few hits on their website.
And so I changed the title to Oilspill Dotcom, but this surfaced as one of the doubts that I mentioned in my last post. Is Oilspill Dotcom, in particular Dotcom, a recognizable (and memorable) word? Would it confuse the customer, prevent them remembering it and knowing how to order or search for it?
So my latest idea (Alan Rinzler’s actually) is one word: Oilspilldotcom. I hope it is easier to remember, easier to visualize and even … memorable?
What do you think? I would love to receive some feedback. I have another week or so before I’ll need to make a final decision, but it’s a big decision. It’s all in the name.
Good Writing,
Alon
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Confusing People- What's It All About?
I understand that my Veteran’s Day entry last week succeeded in confusing people. That passage is not from the book being published in January, it is from the one that will come afterwards.
Oilspill Dotcom is a 60,000-word political courtroom novel, closely based upon the remarkable McDonald’s libel trial (www.mcspotlight.org) that took place in England in the 1990’s.
Oilspill Dotcom illustrates the power of the individual to challenge an economic empire, highlights the profit-driven practices of multinational corporations and challenges the belief that we are all protected by freedom of speech and the law. Moreover, this book celebrates the historical coming of age of the Internet.
Oilspill Dotcom falls into the genre of Erin Brockovich, The Rainmaker and A Civil Action. Along with some humor and sex, it is a novel with a political message of clear relevance to society today.
Below is a brief description:
The world is no longer defined by geographical borders, but by the actions of vast multinational corporations. Matt Fielding, a successful computer programmer, had never entertained such thoughts until his new girlfriend is suddenly arrested for libel against a huge oil conglomerate.
Separated from his burgeoning romance and stunned by the David vs. Goliath odds being played out in the British legal system, Matt harnesses his talents to level the playing field. For the first time in history, the Internet is utilized for grassroots advocacy and the attention of the world is drawn to an epic court battle between a billion dollar corporation and a few individuals who refuse to be silenced. Alongside the court case, Oilspill Dotcom humorously describes the transformation of a carefree yuppie, empowered first by romance and then by a genuine desire to change the world, one pixel at a time.
Yesterday, I received my manuscript back from my wonderful editor, and I am wading through her corrections and suggestions. More on this experience next week.
Good Writing,
Alon
Oilspill Dotcom is a 60,000-word political courtroom novel, closely based upon the remarkable McDonald’s libel trial (www.mcspotlight.org) that took place in England in the 1990’s.
Oilspill Dotcom illustrates the power of the individual to challenge an economic empire, highlights the profit-driven practices of multinational corporations and challenges the belief that we are all protected by freedom of speech and the law. Moreover, this book celebrates the historical coming of age of the Internet.
Oilspill Dotcom falls into the genre of Erin Brockovich, The Rainmaker and A Civil Action. Along with some humor and sex, it is a novel with a political message of clear relevance to society today.
Below is a brief description:
The world is no longer defined by geographical borders, but by the actions of vast multinational corporations. Matt Fielding, a successful computer programmer, had never entertained such thoughts until his new girlfriend is suddenly arrested for libel against a huge oil conglomerate.
Separated from his burgeoning romance and stunned by the David vs. Goliath odds being played out in the British legal system, Matt harnesses his talents to level the playing field. For the first time in history, the Internet is utilized for grassroots advocacy and the attention of the world is drawn to an epic court battle between a billion dollar corporation and a few individuals who refuse to be silenced. Alongside the court case, Oilspill Dotcom humorously describes the transformation of a carefree yuppie, empowered first by romance and then by a genuine desire to change the world, one pixel at a time.
Yesterday, I received my manuscript back from my wonderful editor, and I am wading through her corrections and suggestions. More on this experience next week.
Good Writing,
Alon
Friday, November 7, 2008
Veteran’s Day: Tombs of Honor
At the beginning of the year, I took a three-month break from editing Oilspill Dotcom and wrote the first draft of a 90,000-word novel, They Returned As Heroes (tentative title). I wrote everyday for at least an hour and the story just poured out of me onto the page (well, into the word document). In recognition of Veteran’s Day, I would like to share a scene with you.
Mr. van Ness downs the rest of his cognac in one gulp and resolutely stands up.
“I want to show you something, Will. Come.”
We leave the club in his black, shiny Mercedes and drive about twenty minutes to the military cemetery in the Presidio. There are stunning views of the Golden Gate Bridge, and I stare silently as we pass through the tall stone and iron gates. The cemetery, like most of the city, is built on a hill. Rows of white tombstones stand in perfect, military symmetry, each defined by straight grass borders, like a white and green chessboard. A huge flag blows in the wind as I follow Jane’s father to a section of graves.
“What do you think the average soldier dreads when he goes off to war?” His question is posed without him looking back at me.
I think for the moment. “Death, captivity, maybe never seeing his loved ones again?”
Mr. van Ness nods. “That’s about it. What about an officer?”
“The same?”
“Yes, but there’s something else. The officers see the young, fresh faces when they join the unit. Sometimes, if we’re embarking together, we see their parents, wives, girlfriends, and children. They hug and cry, while the family steals surreptitious glances at the officer, silently pleading: bring my boy home, my lover, my father.
“And a shiver courses through you. You are not God, probably not much of a soldier either. You know you cannot protect them, but still you swear a silent oath; to try and bring them back alive, as many of them as you can. Fuck the war, the politics, the drive to serve your country. All you want is to bring your boys back. You’d rather face a thousand of the enemy than one of these parents, wives or children at the funeral, or remembrance service.”
We stop by a tombstone and he crouches down, tenderly cleaning some dirt that has gathered there. I crouch with him as he takes a deep breath.
“The last time my wife entered my den was about fifteen years ago, Will. She shouldn’t have, but her motives were no doubt innocent. She found a small black notebook, almost full. I had written a list of names, mainly women. The names reappeared regularly and there was a column with dates and another with dollar amounts. She found a checkbook from a bank she was sure we didn’t use.
“That evening she confronted me. We didn’t hold secrets from each other, financial or otherwise. Who were these women? Ex-lovers? Illegitimate kids? I roared back that it was none of her damn business, how dare she enter my den and I yelled other absurdities. We’d never raised our voices to each other like that and have never since. Totally out of control, total rage."
He points to the tombstone.
“My first sergeant, Pete O’Reilly. He died in my arms. The last words he heard were an oath from my lips to take care of his two young kids. Their mother received monthly checks from the bank, anonymous. When his oldest daughter was eighteen, she received a letter from the bank about a trust fund for her and her brother to pay for university tuition. The youngest graduated from Stanford a few years back.”
We move on to another grave. “His family’s all devout Catholics. I swore that they’d never know how he died. He’s buried here as a hero, and so it’ll remain.”
At another grave, he seems lost in thought, buried memories resurfacing. Then at length he turns to me. “Jane doesn’t know this, neither does her mother.” I nod, understanding the unspoken and he continues. “I worked in intelligence as well. I oversaw the recruitment and training of a spy network, of sort. Nothing glamorous. We gave the alcoholics and junkies money for booze and drugs.
“They gave us information, basic stuff like troop movement, nothing too significant. Crumbs. They were the dregs of their society and they knew little. But sometimes they knew enough to prevent some of our troops dying. If we thought we could use methods and intimidation to get more out of them, we never hesitated. If it saved one more life…
“I didn’t care, I could justify it. Not for the great United States, or for freedom and democracy, but to get my boys home alive. If this piece of shit’s confession could save just one of my boys, let him scream."
He took a moment to compose himself. “They were handled by Asians, usually Asian-Americans recruited over here. These people had it hard. They may have nothing to do with Vietnam, born thousands of miles away, in a different culture, a different language. They were doing their job as loyal Americans, no different from the rest of us.
“But they were seen as different. Yellow skin, slit eyes and they aroused all the wild fears and prejudices that permeated the white and black soldiers. They largely hung out together and felt betrayed.
“Then we returned home. To some we were heroes, but many felt uneasy, as they’d heard of the horrors we’d inflicted. For the Asian-American soldiers, it was twice as bad. In civilian clothes, they were just another immigrant, just another who looked like the enemy. They received no honor, no respect from their peers. Sometimes they were even rejected by their own."
He pauses again. I watch his warm breath escape as he exhales into the chilly air.
“There are two of these men still alive, physically at least. They’re both loners, pariahs. They’ve never held down jobs, never married. They wander the streets, allowing themselves to remember only enough to ensure they return to a hostel of sorts that feeds them and gives them beds. They are luckier than the homeless you talk about, Will. Their officer turned out to be a rich bastard who cares. Their tabs at the hostel are taken care of.”
There is silence and we stand up stiffly, both staring around. I search for something to say and put my hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good man, James, a generous man.”
He turns sharply and looks at me incredulously. His voice becomes sharp and loud. “I don’t do it for them! I do it for me! I do it so that I can live, so that I can continue. I do it to keep away the nightmares, to prevent the faces of widows and orphans staring at me at every turn.”
He begins to walk towards the car.
“You’re still a good man, James.” I shout after him, my voice shaking with emotion. He turns to face me. My arm sweeps in the cemetery and, with considerable effort, I steady my voice. “They all know who you are and what you did. They still think you’re a fucking hero. So do I, sir, even if I can’t understand it all.”
He stares at me for what feels like hours and I walk slowly towards him. He is breathing heavily; I see this even though the winter coat he wears. When he speaks, his voice is quiet, but steely.
“Find your boss, son. Find him and help him if you can: his brother too, if the poor bastard’s still alive.”
Mr. van Ness downs the rest of his cognac in one gulp and resolutely stands up.
“I want to show you something, Will. Come.”
We leave the club in his black, shiny Mercedes and drive about twenty minutes to the military cemetery in the Presidio. There are stunning views of the Golden Gate Bridge, and I stare silently as we pass through the tall stone and iron gates. The cemetery, like most of the city, is built on a hill. Rows of white tombstones stand in perfect, military symmetry, each defined by straight grass borders, like a white and green chessboard. A huge flag blows in the wind as I follow Jane’s father to a section of graves.
“What do you think the average soldier dreads when he goes off to war?” His question is posed without him looking back at me.
I think for the moment. “Death, captivity, maybe never seeing his loved ones again?”
Mr. van Ness nods. “That’s about it. What about an officer?”
“The same?”
“Yes, but there’s something else. The officers see the young, fresh faces when they join the unit. Sometimes, if we’re embarking together, we see their parents, wives, girlfriends, and children. They hug and cry, while the family steals surreptitious glances at the officer, silently pleading: bring my boy home, my lover, my father.
“And a shiver courses through you. You are not God, probably not much of a soldier either. You know you cannot protect them, but still you swear a silent oath; to try and bring them back alive, as many of them as you can. Fuck the war, the politics, the drive to serve your country. All you want is to bring your boys back. You’d rather face a thousand of the enemy than one of these parents, wives or children at the funeral, or remembrance service.”
We stop by a tombstone and he crouches down, tenderly cleaning some dirt that has gathered there. I crouch with him as he takes a deep breath.
“The last time my wife entered my den was about fifteen years ago, Will. She shouldn’t have, but her motives were no doubt innocent. She found a small black notebook, almost full. I had written a list of names, mainly women. The names reappeared regularly and there was a column with dates and another with dollar amounts. She found a checkbook from a bank she was sure we didn’t use.
“That evening she confronted me. We didn’t hold secrets from each other, financial or otherwise. Who were these women? Ex-lovers? Illegitimate kids? I roared back that it was none of her damn business, how dare she enter my den and I yelled other absurdities. We’d never raised our voices to each other like that and have never since. Totally out of control, total rage."
He points to the tombstone.
“My first sergeant, Pete O’Reilly. He died in my arms. The last words he heard were an oath from my lips to take care of his two young kids. Their mother received monthly checks from the bank, anonymous. When his oldest daughter was eighteen, she received a letter from the bank about a trust fund for her and her brother to pay for university tuition. The youngest graduated from Stanford a few years back.”
We move on to another grave. “His family’s all devout Catholics. I swore that they’d never know how he died. He’s buried here as a hero, and so it’ll remain.”
At another grave, he seems lost in thought, buried memories resurfacing. Then at length he turns to me. “Jane doesn’t know this, neither does her mother.” I nod, understanding the unspoken and he continues. “I worked in intelligence as well. I oversaw the recruitment and training of a spy network, of sort. Nothing glamorous. We gave the alcoholics and junkies money for booze and drugs.
“They gave us information, basic stuff like troop movement, nothing too significant. Crumbs. They were the dregs of their society and they knew little. But sometimes they knew enough to prevent some of our troops dying. If we thought we could use methods and intimidation to get more out of them, we never hesitated. If it saved one more life…
“I didn’t care, I could justify it. Not for the great United States, or for freedom and democracy, but to get my boys home alive. If this piece of shit’s confession could save just one of my boys, let him scream."
He took a moment to compose himself. “They were handled by Asians, usually Asian-Americans recruited over here. These people had it hard. They may have nothing to do with Vietnam, born thousands of miles away, in a different culture, a different language. They were doing their job as loyal Americans, no different from the rest of us.
“But they were seen as different. Yellow skin, slit eyes and they aroused all the wild fears and prejudices that permeated the white and black soldiers. They largely hung out together and felt betrayed.
“Then we returned home. To some we were heroes, but many felt uneasy, as they’d heard of the horrors we’d inflicted. For the Asian-American soldiers, it was twice as bad. In civilian clothes, they were just another immigrant, just another who looked like the enemy. They received no honor, no respect from their peers. Sometimes they were even rejected by their own."
He pauses again. I watch his warm breath escape as he exhales into the chilly air.
“There are two of these men still alive, physically at least. They’re both loners, pariahs. They’ve never held down jobs, never married. They wander the streets, allowing themselves to remember only enough to ensure they return to a hostel of sorts that feeds them and gives them beds. They are luckier than the homeless you talk about, Will. Their officer turned out to be a rich bastard who cares. Their tabs at the hostel are taken care of.”
There is silence and we stand up stiffly, both staring around. I search for something to say and put my hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good man, James, a generous man.”
He turns sharply and looks at me incredulously. His voice becomes sharp and loud. “I don’t do it for them! I do it for me! I do it so that I can live, so that I can continue. I do it to keep away the nightmares, to prevent the faces of widows and orphans staring at me at every turn.”
He begins to walk towards the car.
“You’re still a good man, James.” I shout after him, my voice shaking with emotion. He turns to face me. My arm sweeps in the cemetery and, with considerable effort, I steady my voice. “They all know who you are and what you did. They still think you’re a fucking hero. So do I, sir, even if I can’t understand it all.”
He stares at me for what feels like hours and I walk slowly towards him. He is breathing heavily; I see this even though the winter coat he wears. When he speaks, his voice is quiet, but steely.
“Find your boss, son. Find him and help him if you can: his brother too, if the poor bastard’s still alive.”
Sunday, October 26, 2008
“Yeah, I’ll Get By With A Little Help From My Friends...”
There are very few of us for whom writing is a social event. More likely, after barely an hour into a social engagement, we are surreptitiously checking our watches, and thinking about the next chapter we’ll write as soon as we can escape.
There are people who write together. There is a group called Shut Up & Write, in which I believe you can join a particular table at a particular time and place, and sit in silence writing. I hear it can be quite productive. But for most of us, I think, the issue is finding the time to write, and we do it best alone.
For the last ten years, I have always had something to write, even if I didn’t know that prior to whipping out the laptop. A good writer writes and s/he also reads – again something that’s usually done solo.
But humans are social animals, and writers are a subspecies of humans. Evolution seems to dictate that we come down from the trees and join writer’s groups. I am blessed to have spent the last two years in the Berkeley Writers Circle (http://writers.meetup.com/519). It is an informal group that meets weekly and gently critiques the work that different members present. The only real rule is for the criticism to be constructive and so far we seem able to express honest feedback without anyone throwing his or her coffee in someone’s face.
We’ve set a structure that the group amends from time-to-time, but the main thing is we are there to help each other and that we enjoy each other’s success and improvements. I think we find a comforting level of legitimacy from sharing an evening a week with other obsessed people who also spend a ludicrous amount of time scribbling and typing. It is a group where you can introduce yourself as: “My name’s John and I’m a writer,” and there is no embarrassed spouse or parent standing next to you who feels compelled to say: “He’s also a lawyer/doctor/lunatic.”
Ironically, I am writing this entry in the Borders in Emeryville, CA, where it all began. Well kind of. Truth is, I was the only one who turned up that first night, and felt pretty stupid gazing desperately at people who glanced at the red and white sign I had on the table.
But today the group generally has 6-12 attendees, and we find willing speakers to address us. We even have visitors who have come to learn how we work and there are other groups that have splintered off from us to concentrate on a particular genre or work differently.
I believe we all need to climb a psychological barrier, to be able to share our desire to write, to get published, to express ourselves, to tell a story that we believe has to be told. Writers groups can provide all this. They have the potential to implode and the wounds can be deep, even terminal, to one’s writing career. But I believe they are essential to help a writer define him/herself, to stand up and announce: I am a writer!
To the members of the Berkeley Writers Circle, past and present: You have helped me nurture this identity, this self-respect, and helped me believe in my work despite the rejections.
You have also helped me make Oilspill Dotcom a better story and a better read. I only hope I have helped you do the same.
Good Writing,
Alon
There are people who write together. There is a group called Shut Up & Write, in which I believe you can join a particular table at a particular time and place, and sit in silence writing. I hear it can be quite productive. But for most of us, I think, the issue is finding the time to write, and we do it best alone.
For the last ten years, I have always had something to write, even if I didn’t know that prior to whipping out the laptop. A good writer writes and s/he also reads – again something that’s usually done solo.
But humans are social animals, and writers are a subspecies of humans. Evolution seems to dictate that we come down from the trees and join writer’s groups. I am blessed to have spent the last two years in the Berkeley Writers Circle (http://writers.meetup.com/519). It is an informal group that meets weekly and gently critiques the work that different members present. The only real rule is for the criticism to be constructive and so far we seem able to express honest feedback without anyone throwing his or her coffee in someone’s face.
We’ve set a structure that the group amends from time-to-time, but the main thing is we are there to help each other and that we enjoy each other’s success and improvements. I think we find a comforting level of legitimacy from sharing an evening a week with other obsessed people who also spend a ludicrous amount of time scribbling and typing. It is a group where you can introduce yourself as: “My name’s John and I’m a writer,” and there is no embarrassed spouse or parent standing next to you who feels compelled to say: “He’s also a lawyer/doctor/lunatic.”
Ironically, I am writing this entry in the Borders in Emeryville, CA, where it all began. Well kind of. Truth is, I was the only one who turned up that first night, and felt pretty stupid gazing desperately at people who glanced at the red and white sign I had on the table.
But today the group generally has 6-12 attendees, and we find willing speakers to address us. We even have visitors who have come to learn how we work and there are other groups that have splintered off from us to concentrate on a particular genre or work differently.
I believe we all need to climb a psychological barrier, to be able to share our desire to write, to get published, to express ourselves, to tell a story that we believe has to be told. Writers groups can provide all this. They have the potential to implode and the wounds can be deep, even terminal, to one’s writing career. But I believe they are essential to help a writer define him/herself, to stand up and announce: I am a writer!
To the members of the Berkeley Writers Circle, past and present: You have helped me nurture this identity, this self-respect, and helped me believe in my work despite the rejections.
You have also helped me make Oilspill Dotcom a better story and a better read. I only hope I have helped you do the same.
Good Writing,
Alon
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
