I am NOT Self-Published

Blogging while angry is never a good idea.

So I've had my relaxing hot beverage and I've taken the requisite ten deep breaths and I've repeated my Mantra of Peace (Larry Curly, Larry Curly, Larry Moe, Larry Larry) once for every eye-poke in 'Disorder in the Court.'

Hey, you have your rituals, and I have mine.  Anyway.

Karen and I stopped in a certain bookstore during our lunch walk to see if they'd stocked All the Paths of Shadow yet.  After all, they are a bookstore.  All the Paths of Shadow is a book.  I'm a local author, and I've seen this very bookstore promote local authors.

We looked.  They did have a copy of The Markhat Files, another of my titles.  But still no copy of Paths of Shadow.

The helpful young man approached and asked if he could help us find anything.  Karen asked if they had any copies of All the Paths of Shadow.  The helpful young man tapped on his helpful computer for a moment before announcing that he couldn't get All the Paths of Shadow unless the author brought him copies, since that was a self-published title.

A self-published title.  That will certainly come as a bit of a shock to the people at Cool Well Press, who up until this very moment have been blissfully unaware that I own their publishing company.  After all, if I self-publish, and I publish through Cool Well Press, that means I own it, right?

Which means I want all those desk chairs.  And the PCs.  Bwahaha, mine, all mine!

Let me point out a couple of small errors in the helpful young man's statements.

All the Paths of Shadow is NOT a self-published title. Cool Well Press pays its authors.  I've never sent them a dime and they've certainly never asked for one.  Yes, Cool Well Press is a small relatively new press.  That makes it a small relatively new press, not a vanity house.

This was pointed out to the helpful young man, who shrugged and repeated his assertion that, even so, they would only deign to carry my book if I A) brought them free physical copies and B) paid for the shelf space.

In my opinion, that makes this bookstore a tad sleazy.  After all, isn't that the same tactic vanity houses employ? Asking the author to pay?

I won't be giving them any free books. I won't be paying them a cent for their precious shelf space.  They don't want me on their hallowed shelves, fine.  I'm not a huge fan of pretentious douchebags anyway.

But I do object to their toboggan-wearing sales clerks giving out false information.  I wonder how many of my friends and neighbors in this small town have gone into the store, asked for my books, and been told the same thing?

So, local bookstore owners, if you want to dismiss me as a genre hack, be my guest.  Your lack of support won't wreck me.  I won't trouble you again.  Ever.

But do not persist in telling the buying public Frank Tuttle is a vanity house victim.  It's untrue, it's unnecessary, and worst of all it's thoroughly unprofessional.

Larry Curly, Larry Curly, Larry Moe, Larry Larry...

Black Friday, Blue Monday, Chartreuse Tuesday

Back in the days of yore, when I was knee-high to a grasshopper and a bushel of dimes only cost a nickel, 'Black Friday' shopping injuries were things that only happened in distant, exotic lands such as Newark and even fabled Oklahoma City.

Last week's Black Friday resulted in a knife fight in our very own Walmart.  I am told that the combatants were locked in a bloody struggle over a discounted set of bedsheets.

Yes.  Bedhseets.  I have to wonder, what battle cry does one shout when charging into a life and death struggle over bedsheets?

Do you yell "Percale!" and then wade in, blade flashing?

Even if you know, don't tell me.  I've never felt very passionate about bedsheets, even if they are selling at a <gasp> fifteen percent discount.

The knife-wielding linen enthusiast will be enjoying the dubious holiday charms of the Lafayette County Detention Center, where I seriously doubt any of the guards dress as festive Christmas elves, at least while on duty.  There, the accused may ponder the error of her ways, and perhaps resolve to shop early at Dollar Tree next year (or in two to five, whichever the judge deems appropriate).

I do not partake in any sort of Black Friday shopping.  Face it, people, aside from a half-dozen strategically-advertised electronic gadgets, the stuff on the shelves is priced the same on Black Friday as it was Routine Thursday and as it will be on Just Another Saturday.  People line up at all hours for the same crap they could have ordered two weeks ago from Amazon without missing a single moment of sleep.

This is why, if I was a betting man, I'd put my money on the cockroaches versus the humans in any kind of long-term existence bet.  You don't see bugs camping out in parking lots because they might save a whole twelve cents on a set of cheap bedsheets.

The Terror of Blogging

Blogging used to be so simple.  I'd suck down a cup of strong black coffee and rave about the first thing that popped into my head.  Badgers. The wind. Pittsburgh.  It didn't matter.  Everything, including windy badgers from Pittsburgh, has made me angry at some point.

These days, though, I take a more measured, thoughtful attitude toward blogging, mainly because it's been pointed out to me that readers might be put off by forth-mouthed rants, and when readers are put off, to be blunt, they spend their lovely lovely money elsewhere.

And we wouldn't want that.  So here I am, trying to think warm and fuzzy thoughts about...um...at this point, anything.

I'm really not very good at being the voice of sweetness and light.  You see a basket of kittens, I see a pile of vet bills and probable contraction of ascaris intestinal roundworms.  You see Newt Gingrich, and I see -- well, I can't say what I see, because in that direction lies the Forbidden Land of the Mad-Eyed Rant.

There are only so many heart-warming tales of whatever it is that warms hearts that I can tell.  And to be honest I can't tell those in anything resembling a convincing fashion.  Anyway, wouldn't increasing the temperature of a heart be dangerous if not suddenly fatal?  "Oh look, I just raised your cardiopulmonary temperature to 212 degrees Fahrenheit. Why are you lying so still?"

Maybe I should write an Overly Literal Christmas Story and post it here.

Hmmm...I like that!  Stay tuned....

Three Wishes, or a Hot Tub?

If you're like me (and let's hope you're not), you'll find yourself obsessing over the most ridiculous things.

Case in point: State Farm commercials.  Specifically, the ones in which anyone can summon a friendly State Farm agent simply by singing aloud the State Farm jingle ('Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there!').

Maybe it's the writer in me, trying to wrap my head around the ramifications inherent in being able to call up a magical, if insurance-obsessed being, just by speaking a few simple words.

I write fantasy, so of course the concept isn't utterly foreign to me.  And there's plenty of mythological and folklorish precedent for such goings-on.  Rub a lamp, summon a genie. Speak the right words, call up a demon, or a ghost.  It's magic, right?

Well, sort of.  But even the most over-used and tired fantasy tropes come with rules.  The genie grants three wishes, and three wishes only.  The demon demands your soul as payment.  Ghosts, well, ghosts pretty much just blather on about family trivia and always wind up being faked by unscrupulous mediums anyway.

But with that State Farm bit, there aren't any rules.  Say the jingle, the agent appears.  Add a few words to the jingle, and that appears too.  In the video, random couch-sitters add 'hot tub' and 'sandwich' to the jingle, and bang, they get them.

That really bugs my inner editor, which is deeply troubled every time it sees magic being used without a price.  Apparently, I'm perfectly all right watching the Second Law of Thermodynamics being violated, but I won't stand for frivolous narrative use of arcane summonings.

The implications of the State Farm world-view are staggering.  What if someone sings 'Like a good neighbor, Sate Farm is there, bringing the entire Sun with them?'

Poof, that's what.  Instant planetary incineration.  The entire Solar System thrown into chaos.

Did I kill an entire alternate Earth out there, just now?

So I reject the whole sing-a-jingle-get-an-agent concept.  It's unworkable even in a fictional environment, because it places no limitations on the scope of the invocation.

State Farm, you are dismissed.


As I said, aren't you glad you're not like me?

Rumors, Hearsay, and Unconfirmed Scuttlebutt!

Fans of All the Paths of Shadow will soon have something to be very happy about indeed!  I'm not quite prepared to make any grand pronouncements yet, but I'm very excited about a project related to the book, and I think readers will be too.

I will say that one of the characters from the book will be brought to life, so to speak, in a unique and thoroughly entertaining way.

And that's all I'm going to say about that right now.

Switching gears for a moment, I'm floored by the way the upcoming Markhat book (The Broken Bell, to be released everywhere on December 27) has already been selling as a pre-order.  If I'd known so many people were waiting on the book, I'd have typed faster!

For anyone interested, you can click here to see All the Paths of Shadow on Amazon in Kindle format, or click here to head to Cool Well Press, where you can get any other format.

Want to check out The Broken Bell?  Click here for Amazon, or here for Barnes & Noble, or even here to go straight to the publisher, Samhain Publishing.  Rest assured we have a format for your tastes, including good old print!

Oh, and one last thing, which won't cost you a dime.  I redesigned my website, and I'd love it if you'd go have a look.

Thanks!

Now back to the WIP...

I Quote Myself

Today, in lieu of actually writing anything new, I decided I'd post a list of clever things my characters have said.

Why?

Because, that's why.

"Deception wears many masks. Take care to remove them all, should you undertake to see the face of truth."
-- Wistril the Wizard, from Wistril Compleat.


"The stuff of legends is nothing but trouble to the persons unfortunate enough to make them. On the whole, I’d rather have been off fishing.”
-- Tim the Horsehead, from All the Paths of Shadow


"You know you're having a bad day when vampires drop by to chat and you're pleased by the sudden distraction."
-- Markhat, from Hold the Dark


Okay, this is a not truly a quote, but an exchange between Markhat and Mama Hog in Dead Man's Rain.  


Mama Hog nodded.  "Cards say she's got a hard rain coming, boy," she said.  "Turned up the Dead Man, and the Storm, and the Last Dancer, all in the same hand.  Dead man's rain.  That ain't good."  Mama grabbed another morsel of sandwich, guffawed around it.  "But I don't need cards to see the sun," she said.  "The Widow Merlat is headed for a bad time.  She knows it.  I know it.  You'd best know it, too."


"Dead is dead, Mama," I said.  "That's what I know."


"There's other things you need to know, boy.  Things about the ones that come back."


"First thing being that they don't," I said.


Mama pretended not to hear.  


"Rev'nants only walk at night," she said.  "It's got to be pitch dark."


"Do tell."

"You can't catch 'em coming out of the ground," said Mama.  "It's no good trying.  They're like haunts, that way. Solid as rock one minute, thin as fog the next."


"Sounds handy," I said.  "Do their underbritches get all misty and ethereal too, or is that one of the things man was not meant to know?"


"Don't look in his eyes, boy," said Mama.  "Don't look in his eyes, or breathe air he's breathed."


"I won't even ask about borrowing his toothbrush," I said.


Mama slapped my desk top with both her hands.


"You listen," she hissed.  "Believe or not, but you listen."


"I've got all night," I said.     


"His mouth will be open," said Mama.  "Wide open.  He's been saving a scream, all that time in the ground.  Saving up a scream for the one that put him there."  Mama lifted a stubby finger and shook it in my face.  "Don't you listen when he screams.  You put your hands over your ears and you yell loud as you can but don't you listen.  Cause if you do, you'll hear that scream for the rest of your days and there ain't nothing nobody nowhere can do for you then."


Silence fell.  Only after Curfew do we get any silence, in my neighborhood.  I let it linger for a moment.


I leaned forward, put my eyes down even with Mama's, motioned her closer, spoke.


"Boo."
--Mama Hog and Markhat, from Dead Man's Rain.

Lightspeed Magazine

It's a tough world if you're a magazine.

I can count, barely moving my lips, the number of print fantasy or SF magazines which have survived the last few years.  Realms of Fantasy is gone (again).  Weird Tales has changed hands (again).  Only the venerable mainstays Analog and The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction seem to be holding their own.

I subscribe, via my Kindle, to Analog and Fantasy and Science Fiction.  Both feature some great writing; neither publication was ever much for interior art, although both have showcased some great covers.  So the black-and-white Kindle format suits them both just fine.

But now that Amazon has announced the new Kindle Fire ereader tablet, I've been looking for new publications with a bit of art mixed in with my fiction.

Which brings us to Lightspeed.  Lightspeed is a new SF magazine, published monthly, which is now available in Kindle format for only twenty bucks a year.

Yeah, I know, you're thinking 'But Frank, digital magazines come and go faster than mayflies!  How do I know this one is any good, and how do I know they'll be around in two months, much less twelve?'

First of all, it's Mr. Tuttle.  Second, I'm blabbering about Lightspeed because of the people behind it.

The editor is a fellow named John Joseph Adams.  Fans of zombie fiction (and anthologies in general) will recognize the name; he's the man behind The Living Dead and The Living Dead 2 collections, among many other titles.

The rest of the Lightspeed staff is equally experienced.

So, these people know what they're doing.  And from what I've seen, they are doing it exceedingly well.  Each month features a podcast -- wicked cool!  -- and some stunning new art by artists on the rise.

Lightspeed is what the Kindle Fire was made for.  Fiction.  Art.  Audio.  Sign me up!

In other news, it's been a bad week for writing.  I think sometimes certain vital areas of my brain just switch themselves off.  Oh, I can still walk and talk, but whatever it is I need to put the right words in the correct order down on paper just isn't working.  So I sit there and stare and wind up with 45 minute writing sessions which result in sentences such as 'The' and a lot of empty page space.

I hate times like these.  I can feel time slipping away, but try as I might, I just can't produce anything worth reading.

The only sure is to produce it anyway, and delete it when the words start coming again.  But it sure feels like a waste of time.

I'm Mister Sunshine today, aren't I?

Well, you could help by clicking here. Or by clicking here.  Or here.  See how much better you feel?

Going Bump #4: The Supernatural on Sale

Man.  I am in the wrong business.

I write stories and books and hope for enough sales to make pounding away on this poor battered keyboard worthwhile.  Some days it is.  Some days it isn't.  And that sums up the glamorous, jet-setting life of a writer in all its Ramen-noodle, buy-in-bulk glory.  Muggers not only pass me by but sometimes hand me a few bucks just out of sudden compassion.  Nigerian internet spammers send follow up emails that simply state 'Didn't know you were a fantasy author, forget I said anything, hope sales pick up, signed, Prince Alfonse.'

The only people who have it tougher are the owners of small presses.

But, as I said, I've just discovered I'm in the wrong business.

I thought I'd troll eBay for a Halloween lark, and see if I could find a few goofy 'occult' items for sale with descriptions worthy of some gentle lampooning.  Protip, kids -- that's what writers do to conjure up blog content when they have headaches and the dogs won't stop barking and they're on diets so there's no more comfort to be found in a quick run to the refrigerator.  They make fun of eBay.  It's a sad but universal truth.

But what I've found listed on eBay amazed me.  Confounded me.  Astounded me.

Because it appears there is serious money to be made even here in the 21st century in the magical trinket business.

The first question that sprang to my mind upon seeing some of the items and prices I'll be linking to below was 'Who buys this stuff?'

The second question was 'Why wasn't I told?'

I can snag  faux-antique rings from sellers in Hong Kong and claim they have powerful mystical qualities.  I can hit the local antique stores for costume jewelry rings and claim each contains the spirit of a mighty djinn trapped inside.

I can afford eBay's modest listing fees.

What am I blathering about?

Well, let me part the magical curtains of internet commerce and show you, gentle reader, just what kind of magic your money can buy!

First, let me point you toward this Magical Ring of 6 Djinns, which is said to be omnipotent!  And since it is after all omnipotent, $9,999.99 really isn't a bad price.  Keep in mind they are throwing in free shipping.

What does your ten grand get you?  Well, honestly, it's a bit hard to say.  The item title claims there are 6 djinn (aka genies) contained in the ring.  The description claims an additional 3,111 powerful entities, but since command of English isn't one of the ring's many splendid powers I really can't be sure.

The ring itself appears to feature a pewter or pewter-colored band on which a gemstone of finest hard plastic is set.  An inscription in the reddish stone is either a single character of faux Arabic or Tolkein's Elvish for 'Wilt thee kiss me in the dark, baby?'


But I'm sure the buyer can have the ring transformed into something more tasteful after his or her purchase.  What the buyer, despite being suddenly omnipotent, cannot do is return the ring, because once you buy 3,111 powerful genies, baby, they are yours.

Magic rings not your thing?  Well, perhaps I can interest you in a device which melds magic and technology to bring about your deepest wishes!  I give you the Haunted Psychic Unit Power Paranormal Activity Item!

What is the Haunted Psychic Unit Power Paranormal Activity Item, or HPUPAI?

Depends on your world-view, I suppose.  Some people might see it as a mystical tool for actualizing their internal desires.  Others might see it as the dial from an electric stove stuck onto a plastic box which sports a bit of copper tubing.

But what isn't influenced by your belief system is the price, which is actualized at a firm $999, no returns.

I'd be a little less skeptical if every listed wasn't followed by a sternly-worded NO RETURNS policy.  Look, you either have confidence in your Hanuted Psychic Unit Paranormal Activity Item, or you don't.  Also, the device doesn't appear to be UL Listed, which is a must for anything with dials, really.

Still no takers?  Being omnipotent or having your every wish granted with the turn of a dial doesn't interest you?

Tough crowd.  But okay.  Maybe what you're looking for in a little less intangible.

What you want is this.

No.  Wait.  For the love of all that is holy, back out of that link.  Sheesh, look at the eyes on that thing.  If that isn't touched by the spirit of pure evil, I don't know what is.  Who paints flowers on something's face and then glues a cowboy hat to it?  Look at that expression in the photo.  That expression says 'Yeah, I'm going to wait until you are fast asleep and then slit your throat and roll in your blood and that's exactly what you deserve for bringing this into your home.'  And even that runs you five hundred bucks.

Instead, check this out -- a haunted phone.  The seller isn't sure whether this fine specimen of 2003 telephone technology is haunted by a ghost, a demon, a genie, or the Patron Saint of Grubby Fingerprints, but he's sure that smudge in the faded LCD display is evidence of something.  I agree, but I suggest it's evidence of a household in need of a rag and a bottle of 409 Cleaner.  But heck, it's only $399, so who am I to quibble?

That's probably enough trolling for one entry.  I barely scratched the surface -- haunted dolls, haunted rings, haunted toys, you name it, it's out there, it's haunted, and it can be yours for a price.

Happy shopping!  Of course if you really want something cool check out the Naked Spinning Angry Widow Ghost Djinn Demon Ring of Ultimate Power.

Buy one for your mother!

The Broken Bell

Yes, the seaons are a-changin.'  The leaves are turning, there's a chill in the air, and Amazon just opened the new Markhat book The Broken Bell up for pre-orders!

Which is a bit of a relief for me.  I'm such a self-absorbed hog for attention that I routinely Google my own name (and yes, I'm sure a therapist would present a raised eyebrow and a knowing nod at this revelation).  So when Barnes & Noble put up their pre-order page for The Broken Bell and then Amazon UK put up their pre-order page, I expected Amazon here to quickly do the same.

Days passed.  Calendar pages flipped off the wall in a wind, just like in a dozen old movies.  Flocks of geese flew south, then north, then south again.  Snow fell, melted, washed down the river as a spring flood, and was then bottled and sold to yuppies for four bucks a pop.

I despaired.  I wept.  I bought the geese a year-round bus pass.

But finally, today, the pre-order page appeared.

Which means two things -- first and foremost, of course, you can order.  In fact, go ahead.  I'll wait.

Done?  Thanks!

As to the second thing -- I can finally show you the cover, which was created by artist Angela Waters! Check out her website, which is a thing of beauty.

Inquisitive types can even spot certain clues concerning the book's contents in the cover image.  I love this cover, and I hope you will too.

I'm really excited about The Broken Bell.  It's the longest and most ambitious Markhat book to date.  I'll say this, and no more -- the peace Rannit has enjoyed is over, and nothing will ever be quite the same.

So ogle the cover and click the pre-order, faithful readers.  Markhat is coming for Christmas!

And in the meantime, why not try All the Paths of Shadow?  Meralda isn't Markhat, but then again, Markhat isn't Meralda.  And if Kindle format isn't your preference, well, we have Nook and print too.

Okay, that's enough blabbing for now.  Back to work on Brown River Queen.

And the Winner is....

Ding ding!  I have a winner, folks, to the contest I announced last week.  Jennifer gets a signed copy of All the Paths of Shadow, and....

What's that?  I promised a video reveal?

Um, well.  About that.  I did, but I really should have checked my aging video camera first, because it won't power on.  I mean nothing.  Not a red charging indicator, not a flicker of the screen, not even a tell-tale buzz when I plug it in.

So, with that in mind, pretend I'm on your screen, right now.  Dressed in a tailor-made tuxedo, in tasteful black, of course.  I'm standing in a spotlight (I have a *huge* special effect budget in this version of the video), my chiseled frame accentuated by the perfect fit of the $8,000 tux.

I flash an incandescent smile at Camera Two, and tear open the envelope with a well-muscled flourish, and as Pink Floyd (live, behind me) fills the air with music I read aloud Jennifer's name.

The crowd, some eighty thousand strong, goes wild.  Roses are cast upon the stage.  Confetti and bright balloons fall onto the stage.  Overhead, a flight of fighter jets swoop down and drop fireworks, which explode with thunders and flashes.

Not bad for the presentation of a 17 dollar book, huh?

You don't see John Grisham snagging Pink Floyd as a back-up act, do you?  Ever seen Stephen King in a European-made tux?  No?

I didn't think so.

So, Jennifer T., I salute you!  I'll get your signed copy of Paths of Shadow out tomorrow.  Thanks for entering, and for all your support!

Oh, and now I'll have the cast of  'NCIS' read the winning entry, and the runners-up!

Jennifer's Entry:  The Cross-Eyed Caterpillar

Mug was a large green cross-eyed caterpillar in the first version of the book.  Such prescience must be rewarded, so Jennifer wins!

Entries of Note:

The Thinly-Veiled Attempt at Cashing In On Harry Potter
This is Not a Markhat Book
Man, Just Look at This Cover
All the Subplots of Confusion
Book One of Three


I'm glad to see I have some seriously snarky readers.

Thanks to everyone for playing!  Um, can someone pony up for all that jet fuel?

All the Paths of Shadow on Amazon

All the Paths of Shadow at Cool Well Press