Beyond the Novel - DB Corey: Pasadena MD

Showing posts with label Pasadena MD. Show all posts

Saturday, August 17, 2013

Feedback

Well, I suppose you know by now that the Chain of Evidence book launch at Two Rivers Steak House in Pasadena, Maryland went off without a hitch, thanks in no small part to the efforts of Maggie and Mary and Delaney and Michelle. Lots of ‘M’ names for sure. Now I get a chance to sit back and see what I’m made of, or more exactly, what the novel is made of. The reviews are starting to trickle in, and I won’t burden you with them here, but should you care to read a few, you’ll find them on http://www.dbcorey.com/Media-and-Events.html.

So far, the reception is good. One 3 star (on Goodreads—a rating, not a review), one 4 star and the rest 5 star on Amazon and others. Above average, I’d say, and four of those are professional reviews.

Now it’s true I know a goodly portion of the folks writing the Amazon reviews, and I don’t count the ones I wrote for myself (kidding). I fully expected those folks to be positive and encouraging, and to some degree, liars. But they tell me they are being honest and speak the truth, so I believe them.

Then I hear from folks I don’t know—and these are the ones who really surprise me—people who I wouldn’t know if I fell over them, people who heard of the book through word of mouth, or saw it in the paper, or read it because a “local” guy wrote it. One gal downloaded it to her Kindle, read it in two days, and liked it so much she asked me to send her a signed copy that she would gladly pay for.

Blew me away.

I’ve been hearing from folks I haven’t seen in twenty-five years. They’re finding me on LinkedIn and Facebook and readers are telling me how good the novel is, and how much they enjoy the local flavor, and want to know if the next one will be #2 in a series because the liked the protag. Some say they thought they had it figured out only to find they hadn’t. Others had inklings, and so far, no one has thrown the book across their living room.

Most say that they can’t wait for the next one, and brother, I’m hoping I ain’t wakin’ up no time soon.

The feedback is awesome and quite humbling, and the Intrigue folks told me this would happen last year when this all began—

But Maggie, the love of my life, says I’m turning into a Diva.

"You need a bigger office," she says. "To fit your head."

It’s not true, of course …

… just because I redecorated my office with pictures of me….

OK … I’m only kidding.

There’s just one.

Poster size.

So Cloud 9 is way up there. And I’m on it. But I’ll be back down soon.

Maggie insists I keep my feet on the ground, and I always listen to Maggie.

Besides, it’s hard to write way up here.

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Friday, August 9, 2013

In The Blink of an Eye

On Wednesday August 1^st, 2013, I achieved the goal of penning a published novel. It took me eight years. Some folks wait a lifetime; others, barely one. Therefore, you’ll understand when I say that I consider myself fortunate that the Word Gods favored me above some others who still labor, who still seek elusive Success; a cruel taskmaster that stays just beyond your reach, yet tantalizes you with images and imaginings of cover art and 20-city tours and lectures to throngs of the devoted who seek your audience at conventions and conferences. Success changes before your eyes, shifts its shape and appears nothing like it did when you began. It is the Brass Ring, The Lombardi Trophy, The Stanley Cup. It is a tease, a Siren who beckons, and you follow, because if you do not, if you give up, you will live forever in the shadow of failure. The “what ifs” will fuel your self-doubt, and your self-doubt will define you.

Well, that all sounds very literary, very profound, but it’s a bunch of crap!

Failure doesn't define you. It strengthens you! Educates you! Improves you!

That’s its function.

That’s why it exists.

Ever heard the term, “What doesn't kill you just makes you stronger?”

That’s Failure.

I started writing in 2005 only because I proposed a challenge to myself. I was fifty-six and hadn't done much more than my ol’ man. When I became an adult I got a job, bought a house, raised some kids, and hoped to retire for a little while before I died somewhere down the road—The American Dream, tarnished somewhat by the years. I challenged myself to write a book, just because I knew I’d never be able to do it, and I think that’s why I tried—better to have loved and lost; better to have tried and failed?

Same thing.

Writers write books. I wasn't a writer; I was Everyman; a father and a son, a citizen and an outlaw, a saint and a sinner. But I decided to see if I could do something more, something different, and that was select eighty-five-thousand words from Merriam-Webster and order their placement on the page so that they constituted something that would pass for a story; something with a beginning, a middle, and an end; something with a plot and a direction, a good guy and a bad guy, a place for it to happen, and for someone to win, and someone to lose. That’s it. Nothing more. I didn't care to enter any contests or be nominated for any awards … no Edgar, no Allen, no Poe. All I cared about; all I required to achieve success, was to do only that.

It took three years, and it was terrible, and the success I had just achieved shifted its shape, and became Failure.

The Siren beckoned. I had to try again.

A friend of mine said to me upon hearing the news, “Even if you publish just one novel in your lifetime, you’ll have done something few have. It’s something special.”

On Saturday August 3^rd, I celebrated having my novel published. The two-hour celebration was over in the blink of an eye. Such is Success. I barely remember it. What I do remember is courting Failure for all those years as it led me to Success. As I failed, I learned, I grew, I improved. I mean, how else could I write all this flowery shit? I had a two-thousand word vocabulary when I graduated high school, most of them no more than three letters, and the rest of them profane.

I usually place the photos I use in my blog at the beginning, but not this time. I’m placing them at the end in an effort to symbolize a beginning; a beginning of a new career … for all involved.

Here’s to mistakes.

Here’s to failures.

And here’s to wherever we are, one year from now.