Pulp Covers

 I've always been a huge fan of pulp art novel covers. I don't know why, but they've always appealed to me. I think the first I remember seeing was for Foundation by Asimov. I think I've mentioned here before (see here) that when I was growing up I would spend summers with my grandfather in the country. He was an avid novel reader and I became one as well. We would go to the paperback bookstore in the town nearby and trade in all of paperback books and get new ones for a discount. I think that might be where I first became aware of my liking pulp covers. 

Reviews are Good for the Ego

Whenever I wonder about why I'm writing or if I'm actually writing well, I take a moment to go read some of the reviews of my books (see them all here and here). I re-read this one (here) from several months ago from someone who read One the Edge, and I noticed I had gotten another (see below).

I really like that my book and my writing contributed to her understanding more about adventure racing and the military. That is precisely some of the reasons I wrote the novel. Lisa was every reason I wrote the book. Michael's review is amazing, but Lisa's too is amazing in it's own way. 

Camp NaNo

 Since I'm writing more this month, and since I've challenged myself to get my 2021 novel written during this hiatus between classes, I've (apparently) been in "Camp NaNo."

I did not know that NaNo had a summer camp, but I'm glad to be a part of it. 

I'm writing a novel I'm tentatively calling Front Running. Just like the other in this series, the main character enjoys fitness and running. What's different is that he enjoys it in a way like no other character I've written. 

Perhaps I was inspired by Lawrence Sanders (see here), who loves to include descriptions of the cocktails his main characters drink, or perhaps this is based too much on my real life, but the main character is a lush (truthfully, I'm a tad jealous of my main character).

Ran Into These Today

 So, anyone who follows me knows about my passion for these Evershade posts (see HERE). I think I’m well over 50 posts now! Well, I ran into a few more I felt the need to post today as well. Love these. All from the same source, my friend from up North. 

This is from The Curious Optimist:

Tie me up in your words . . . Take me prisoner in your mind.

Noir Detective

 I tried reading a little noir detective novel the other day. It was a bit too formulaic and far too one dimensional for my tastes, but since I gave it a read, I thought I'd share the first line for the first line series I keep (see here).

Guest Post - Jess_Hockey: Write Well, If You Can, Write Great

Writing may be different for everyone in some regards, but in a way we all follow the same pattern. We write what we know, and if we know it enough, we can write it very well. For the past year since Covid hit I have been writing my in-progress novel and the process is what I am eager to share with you today. When I was a young teenager, I struggled profoundly with major Depression and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Multiple times, I was committed to mental health treatment facilities due to my struggles. 

I learned about and met the most one-of-a-kind people with psychological struggles of their own. What I knew when I was 14 is that I would never meet people like this again. I came up with the idea back then to write my novel based on what I had learned and experienced. It wasn’t until this past year that I, as a now healthy college student, decided to write about the people I met and the place I experienced when I was a young teen. 

Most Recent First Line

Finished a second fave. Has to be a good month when I've finished a Dick Francis and a Lawrence Sanders in the same months (see here and here). 

One thing I will say is that I love reading the reviews of Lawrence Sanders' books by modern readers who don't appreciate him. Too slow, boring, or not at all realistic . . . well, you have to appreciate the man to enjoy his books. 

Regardless, somehow I ran into John D. MacDonald, a prolific writer from the 1960's and already I'm very excited to get involved. Love the pacing, love the theme, love the characters. 

More for the Evershade File

 So, I have a few more for that Evershade series I love so much (see HERE). These are super simple and sweet, but they hit me like all of the Evershade posts do, in just the right place. 

This first is from Siren, who I have posted from before. A hug can be SUCH a safe place, and a hug from that favorite person in your life, you "other" can be so much more than just a hug. It can be an experience.

Sometimes your safe place is just a hug from your favorite someone.

A Quick One on Twitter

On my Twitter, I follow a group called "Objects with Faces" (see here) and today they had one I just had to share with this group. 

The string on the bird app is exactly like what it sounds. It finds things that are typical objects and if they look human, folks take a pic and post it. I also subscribe to Kids Doing Stupid Things, and Guys Posting their Wins, but I like this one the most. 

 

Love that one. It hit me. Wish I had chain arms to lock in my loved ones. 

What's this have to do with writing? Not sure. I'm sure something will come to me.

Change of Course

 Well, I had a bit of a change of course. Turns out I have read Caper (see here) and Sullivan’s Sting (see here). Also turns out that I didn’t really care for either of them. Sure. They were Lawrence Sanders, which made them good, but I want great at the moment. So, if I have to re-read something, I’m going to re-read something really good or great. 

I’ve moved to Lawrence Sanders’ Sixth Commandment. 

What’s also really nice is I started that novel that I had sitting somewhere in the back of my mind. Sure I could be working on Sunset Perfect, or I could be working on the Elephants novel, or any of the other that I’ve worked on. But I have this month, might as well get this one on paper. 

Regardless, here’s that first line for the current novel I’m reading:

LATE NOVEMBER, AND THE world was dying. A wild wind hooted faintly outside the windows. Inside, the air had been breathed too many times. 

“It’s got nothing to do with your age,” I said. 

“Liar,” she said. 

I tried to groan. Swung my legs out of bed and lighted a cigarette. Sat there smoking, hunched over. She fumbled with my spine. 

“Poor baby,” she said. 

I wouldn’t look at her. I knew what I’d see: a small body so supple it twanged. Short brown hair cut like a boy’s. All of her sleek. She had me in thrall. Soft swell to her abdomen. A little brown mole on the inside of her left thigh. Her ass was smooth and tight. 

“All I’m saying,” I said, “is that I’ve got to go away on a business trip. A week, two weeks, a month—who knows? I’ve got to; it’s my job.” 

“I’ve got five weeks’ vacation coming,” she said. “I could get a leave of absence. I could quit. No problem.” 

I didn’t answer.