ARRRRGH! A Pirate Murder Mystery … and Dinner

As writers, we each have a favorite genre or two, and maybe one or two comfortable formats we gravitate to. I tend to lean toward Thrillers and Mysteries for the novel and short story formats, and I generally reserve essays for Humor. Now, as far as formats go, I didn't really think about them all that much, but a week or so ago, a friend of mine said:

“Hey! You’re a writer….”

I looked around to see who he was talking to.

“Think you’d like a pirate murder-mystery?”

Turns out he was talking about a dinner play. Now I've been to exactly one play, not counting the ones forced on me in high school. I've never written a play because plays aren't really my thing, but Mark went on to tell me that the play was being put on by the Brewmaster/Owner of The Heavy Seas Brewery here in Baltimore. Mark is a beer aficionado and knows a good beer when he drinks one … or two … or….

... as I was saying....

Come to find out they were having the play in the Heavy Seas Alehouse downtown on Bank St., a brand new watering hole touting Baltimore’s rich nautical history. The play was themed around—you guessed it—pirates. It sounded like fun, so Maggie and I joined Mark and Debbie for a mid-week night out.

We arrived a little early, so we moseyed up to the bar and caught up on stuff. The interior was immaculate and maintained a Caribbean ambiance with rich dark wood, sturdy furniture, and a metal front door so heavy that it took a fair amount of strength to open. It boasted the brewery’s flagship beverage on tap, and for my money, I found the venue pleasant, fresh, and comfortable.

Debbie and Mark are beta reading my next novel, and we discussed writing and other mundane things over a couple beers as we waited for things to get started. The play, Huge Done It? A Pirate Murder Mystery, was written by Adam Mack, produce by The Murder Mystery Company, and performed by local actors, who just happened to be milling about in costume minutes before we were ushered into the Captain’s Lounge for the play. Little did we suspect that some of us would have roles as well.

Anne Bonnie

According to Maggie, who loves researching just about everything, the actors scrutinize the audience for specific qualities before the show begins to see who they can shanghai to fill out “audience” character roles. No sooner than we were seated, the cast—Capt’n One-Eyed Willie (Steven Foote), Capt’n Long Jane Silver (Jess Rivera (Yes, Jane. This gal was a hoot!)) and Lady Pirate Anne Bonnie (Alexandra Goldstein)—began roaming through the small audience assigning roles to the unsuspecting. 

Steven Foote
Capt'n One-Eyed Willie

Jess Rivera
Capt'n Long Jane Silver

Alexandra Goldstein
Lady Pirate Anne Bonnie 

Doctor A.R. & Capt'n Kidd

They zeroed in on Mark and me right away, gave us name-tags and hats to identify who we were, and a dossier with everything we'd need to become characters in the play. Mark starred as Captain Kidd (the first murder victim), and I played Doctor A.R., pronounced ARRRRGH! In fact, there was so much ARRRRGH going on that night, I woke up this morning still ARRRRGH-ing and agitating the dogs to no end.

Each character had a bio, and secrets … lots of secrets … and the rule was that if someone asked a question during the investigation of these heinous crimes, we couldn't lie. But we could say nothing … unless bribed with Buccaneer Bucks. 

In actuality, the cast, staying in character, functioned more as actor/directors, setting the tone and directing the play where they wanted it to go, keeping it on track while guiding the audience/players. Out of about thirty people, ten were “recruited” for roles and no one declined—it just looked like too much fun.

Doctor A.R., Anne Bonnie, One-Eye'd Willy,
and Capt'n Kidd (deceased).

As I mentioned earlier, each character had a bio and lots of secrets known only to them. Mine, for example, was a fear of touching dead people and “winging it” when it came to Cause of Death. Not a good phobia for a doctor to have. I was a bilge rat, a scallywag, a scoundrel, and the two actresses referred to me as a scurvy dog the whole night. At first, I thought they actually knew me from my single days. Then, somewhere around the main entrée, it dawned on me that each of these roles had rich and complex characteristics and foibles that entwined with each other. Every character was connected to every other character in some manner, and usually not in a good way.

This little play contained all the necessary elements a good story must have: plot, setting, conflict, character flaws, motivation, opportunity, infidelity (implied), betrayal, and all that goes with them. The writer could easily replace last night’s murderer (Blind Hugh, who wasn't blind at all, by the way) and replace him with any other character without a lot of re-writing. Each character was created with reasons to want to kill another character.

Aye! ... Brilliant!  

So there ye have it, matey! I won’t be gettin’ into the rest of it, other than to say that if ye ever get the chance to see one of these intimate little dinner plays, ye should. Aye, they be good clean wholesome fun for your entire crew, and something most out of the ordinary.

Oh, I totally forgot to mention … I took home the Best Actor award as well.

ARRRRGH!

Best Regards,

DB

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What Do You Do, When You’re Not Writing?

I don’t get sick very often, but I’m sick today; not so sick that I can’t do stuff, but sick enough to be whiny and to drive my wife crazy. So I climbed from bed, complaining the whole way, and trudged to my office, making Maggie wish she had taken a different day off to prepare for Easter.

I’m not 100%, but I decided to see if my sick brain could learn something. I pulled up a course from Writer’s Digest that I signed up for last week—Creating Engaging Blogs by Dan Blank. I decided to see what he knew that I didn't. I found, it was considerable. 

  

By and large, my blog (this one) isn't bad, but he pointed out little things that could make it better; not so much regarding content, but more along the lines of appearance and function. One of the points that stood out concerned the description of the blog … what it’s about, and who might enjoy it.

Ooops!

Mine had no description. And the more I looked at it, the more I realized I was lucky to have any readers at all … not counting my family of course. I made them read it. So I started changing things; the background, the template, and some of the gadgets. I added a description, and changed a few other things. The cool part about a podcast is the ability to pause it. I’d learned something and compare it to my blog, pause the podcast, and fix stuff. Worked out pretty well.

Another critical point he brought out was the “About Me’ page, or in my case with BlogSpot, my Profile from the Google site; another aspect of a blog that I lacked. He stated that a blog should not be about ME ME ME, but more about how it benefits the reader, and what the reader will gain from it. I write about writing, the writing process, the journey to publication, and occasionally digress to other things—both funny and sad—that I have found interesting, or that have profound effects on me. I like to think my readers enjoy these little diversions as well, but on the whole, I tell my readers of my adventures in the land of writing and publication, and hope they gain a bit of insight.

For example, somewhere in my blog is a post on reading excerpts before a crowd of strangers, and another on the things one might say when asked what their book is about. These are the things aspiring writers aren't concerned with until they come face to face with them, so I point them out in my blog.

If your profile is all about you, that’s fine, as long as you tell the first-time reader how you and your blog can benefit them. Mine was about me, not the blog, so I changed it. I expect I’ll get around to the cool stuff I did later as things progress.

Best Regards,

DB

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Creative License

I wish I had a nickel for every time someone told me to “write what you know.” I write crime thrillers and mysteries, but I don’t really know them, per se. I was never a cop. So I use my imagination, a little insight, and a bit of inspiration to invent stuff. That’s what fiction is. But when I wrote the sixth chapter of my upcoming novel, I needed a graveyard, a priest, and a church. Simple, right? Many churches have graveyards, and all churches have priests of a sort. So I started with the church. I drew on what I knew. I began to pull in memories of the church I went to as a child.

I grew up Catholic, and went to small church that was little more than the basement of a Catholic school. It was perfect for the book; small, poor, and exactly what I needed. But it didn't have a graveyard. So I created one. I exercised a little Creative License and turned the plat of land they reserved for a new church into a graveyard. Growing up, we knew a proper church would be erected because every Sunday, they held a second collection specifically for its construction. Something else I “knew.” So I wrote the chapter with the church, second collection and all, with the priest and with the graveyard. It all worked out fine.

Last week, I met my brother for a couple beers and a bunch of oysters at a Biker Bar. The oysters were free for just a tip to the guy wielding the oyster knife. It was a good deal. When Maggie and I left, I decided to show her where I grew up. It wasn't far from where we were, and neither was the church. So we drove there as well. Pulling in, I noticed a new building that wasn't there when I was a kid; some sort of assembly hall. But it wasn't a church. In the fifty years I’d been gone, the priests who mentored me in the ways of Christ were long dead, the church was never built, and I was disappointed to find that the land reserved for it now functioned as soccer field.

Church / Soccer Field / Graveyard

At the corner of the field is a plaque dedicated to the priest who was the pastor so many years ago. He died a Monsignor. I used all but the plaque in the novel because I “knew” them, and even brought that priest back to life, but  I employed Creative License to create the one thing I really needed to make the scene work.

The graveyard.

Until I went there, I had no idea the land had been used for a soccer field instead of a church. And even though I feel a little cheated out of a birthright, I guess the kids like it better that way. And let’s face it—I wouldn't be going to that church at this stage of my life anyway. But after applying a little Creative License, I have to admit—if it can't be a church, then I think I like it better as a graveyard.

Best Regards,

DB

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Does This Novel Make Me Look Fat?

I went for my annual physical a while back. I’m in pretty good health, Doc said … all things considered. BP is a little high as is my cholesterol. “We’ll use meds to get that under control. Other than that you’re in great shape,” he said. “Except for your weight. You need to lose a few pounds.”

A few pounds. OK. But as many of you out there in the Blogosphere know, losing weight is easier said than done. 

I quit smoking when I turned 60, so I expected to gain some weight. But that’s about the same time I started writing for real, and, when I started writing, I also started sitting. A lot. Now I, for one, happen to consider writing an exercise since I work my brain to write. Ergo, sitting, being part of my writing process, is exercise too, but I might be the only one who thinks that way. Regardless, the issue remains; the exercise of writing involves sitting.

So I sit. And I write. But there are times when I sit and I think which is not writing and not exercise because then it’s just sitting. And when I’m sitting but not writing and not exercising, I’m munching. 

Welllll…  When I’m sitting and thinking but not writing and not exercising because it’s just sitting and munching but not drinking, I have to wash all that down with something.   

 

That’s why ancient scribes invented beer.

So when I sit and not write and think and not exercise and munch and wash all that stuff down with beer, I’m actually getting my daily sitting/writing exercise because I’m reaching and lifting and chewing, but still, it didn’t seem to work.

I had to get serious.

I switched to sugar substitutes, sugar-free gum, and diet soda; diet salad dressings, baked potato chips, and low-cal cookies; small bags of M&M’s, low-fat double-whipped triple-churned ice cream, and lite beer. I even cut my large double-pepperoni-and-sausage pizza intake to five a week, but still I lost no weight.

So, getting back to the doctor—remember the doctor?— Maggie says because Doc thinks I need to lose weight, and the sitting/writing exercise I get isn’t enough, she’s going to make me snacks and meals that are better for me, and will help me lose weight. And the worse part of all this, she thinks we’re going to have lots-o-fun.

 

“I didn’t marry you just to have you die on me now,” she told me. She’s been waiting for this like a kid waits for Christmas. She sees us going to the grocery store—hand-in-hand and all starry-eyed—picking out nothing but “healthy” food. I can’t wait.

The more wheat germ, the better, I say.

So to counter my over-weight condition, she bought all sorts of stuff to sprinkle on my food. Stuff I never heard of, like Organic Ground Premium Flaxseed with Omega-3 and Lignans.

What the hell is Flaxseed?
And Lignans sound like something you should eradicate
… like termites.

Oh, you think I’m exaggerating, do you? Here’s a text message she sent me the other day:

Morning honey ... I’m getting you Egg Beaters and low calorie low carb stuff. Low calorie bread is good. Wheat or whole grain ...Cheerios … diet soda is okay. They say in moderation, cheese is actually okay. I'll pick up more stuff as I come across them in my reading. Look at the labels. You don't want sugar in the first three ingredients and you should try to keep your carb amount not above 55 grams a day. So look at the labels.

Love you lots. Going for a run.

xoxoxo  

Going for a run.... The woman is effusive. You can almost hear the freaking excitement in her voice. I think she’s enjoying this more than sex. 

In addition to all this, the Doc gave me a list of foods I can and can’t have.

For instance:

I can have lean meats, fish packed in water, chicken without the skin (Who can eat fried chicken without the skin?), and few breads, like Melba toast. I guess the doc thinks I’m still teething, as well.

In place of bread, I can substitute beans or dried peas. So I tried that. I slapped some light mayonnaise on a couple of dried peas and tried to make a ham sandwich. It wasn’t easy because it was so hard to hold. It wasn’t very filling either, so I made another one.

What I can’t have is duck, goose, coconuts, avocados, lard and alcohol. No problem there … except for maybe—you guessed it—the alcohol.

 

So Maggie comes home from work one night, very tired. I offer to order Chinese, but now, I have to see if they have dietary meals. Of course, all I need do is ask.

“Ha-row, Rucky Dragon.”

“Yes, I’d like to place an order for delivery.”

“What you rike?”

“Do you have any dietary dinners?”

“Di-a-tery?”

“Yes … low-fat”

“Ro-Fat? I’m solly, no Ro-Fat here.”

“You don’t have any low-fat dinners?”

“Ro-Fat work here no more. Rives in Okrahoma now.”

“No! No! ... Low-fat MEALS.” 

“Ro-Fat no cook. Dishwasher. Quit rast week. You want order something? Robster? Pork flied lice? Egg loll maybe?”

I decided on steamed veggies. Maggie was so happy, she poured Flaxseed all over it; made it crunchy, so I pretended it was fried chicken.

All in all, I expect things will work themselves out. Maggie is a pretty good cook, so I’m sure she’ll be able to do something with me in the next few weeks, even if it’s just rolling me out to the car for my next doctor’s appointment.

DB

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Where Does the Rewriting Stop?

The first draft of my second novel is finished. Now begins the search for perfection, that unattainable point where the rewriting stops.

So, where is that, exactly?

For the most part, rewriting comes before proofing, and concerns punctuation and spelling and word choice, and in the later stages, formatting, consistency, and continuity. The obvious stuff. Then there’s the part of the writing process that drives me batty; when my mind makes changes to something I have already written and moved past. This usually occurs in the early morning hours, during that space of time between being asleep and being awake, and come from that dusty corner of the mind where the remnants of dreams live. They are wisps of thought, misty images of scenes, and they commingle with my consciousness as I wake. They are suggestions that task me when I open my eyes, and they are as fleeting as the dreams they come from. 

So I write them down.

I read somewhere that writers should never ignore their dreams. They are pure creation, and they reveal themselves for a reason. As a writer, dismissing them is foolish. For my money, this applies to rewrites as well.

I mentioned earlier that my next novel is in rewrites. I woke the other morning with the thought of my protagonist’s early intro into the story. She does a job she does not care for. She doesn’t hate it because she understands the necessity for it, and likens it to the average American worker who is good at a job that they don’t enjoy. My early morning epiphany suggested I needed to drive that point home a bit more early on, in order to enrich the character, and give the changes she goes through more impact.       

To emphasize the point, I’ll share with you an anecdote a friend shared with me. He said Jeffery Deaver (The Bone Collector, The October List) once told him that he would edit his novels right up to the time they went to print if he could. 

All things considered, I suppose that’s where the rewriting stops … for that edition.

Best Regards,

DB

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Stetsons and Stilettos, Pantomimes and Phrases

Your novel is available on internet sites, and maybe a real bookstore or two. It’s picking up a little momentum, your Facebook page rocks, and your reviews are 4s & 5s across the board. You are pushing your brand, and life is good. But what do you, as a writer, use to set yourself apart, other than your writing? Is there something about you, outside of your novel, that makes people take note? Makes folks recognize you on the street?   

Several of us who have books published with Intrigue Publishing hooked up a week or so ago to discuss stealing (he-he) “borrowing,” an idea our femme fatale counterparts came up with. They, the gals, thought it would be a good idea to join forces to do a little marketing, so they formed the Book Divas on Tour; their mission—to promote their work as a group. They felt they’d have a broader appeal if they offered a little something extra. They came up with the tour idea. Four writers for the price of one. More bang-for-the-buck, as they say. So we, the guys, formed Meet Myster Write.

(Get the wordplay? Myster Write? Mister Right? Mystery writers? … never mind).

The idea is to tour and make ourselves available to book clubs, bookstores, coffee shops, libraries … anywhere readers gather to talk about reading, writing, the writing process, publishing; anything. We think it might catch on. We’re not billing it as books for sale, although we might just keep a few copies in the trunk of the car, just in case.

When the email organizing the meet came along, it included suggestions of physical items that lent themselves to the image of the mystery genre; things such as trench coats and Fedoras, leather jackets and switchblades, .38s and blackjacks. I thought it was a great idea, especially since I owned a Fedora and leather jacket, and not a .38 or a switchblade. But the Fedora was too dressy for the jacket, so I settled for my Stetson since it looks much like a Fedora. Yep. That’s me in the pic. Bogie would be proud. Those other good-lookin' writers are Larry Matthews, Dana King, and Austin Camacho. 

I have decided to adopt the Stetson and the jacket as unofficial trademarks; something I can use to promote myself, an idea I’m beginning to warm to. One of the Divas is already doing this. She loves her stilettos. And she points them out every chance she gets. That’s self-promotion, although it mystifies me how you gals can walk in those things all day long. Now when I see a pair of 5” heels or hear the name, I think of her. The shoes are her unofficial trademark. Johnny Carson’s golf swing, Charlie Chaplin’s unique walk, The Rifleman’s Winchester … all unofficial trademarks. If you hear someone say, “I’ll be back,” in a heavy Austrian accent, who do you think of? Or, “Excuuuuuse! Meeeeee!” Do you remember who said that? It became his trademark line.Trademarks such as these come along naturally. They just happen. But nothing says you can’t create one to suit your unique persona. So I have decided to use the Stetson and the jacket. And I already know it works.

Last weekend I attended the Bay to Ocean Writer’s Conference on Maryland’s eastern shore  sporting my new trademark look. As I walked between buildings to the next panel, I heard someone behind me say, “I thought I recognized that hat!” It was one of the Myster Write authors. Oddly enough, he has a mystery series in which he equipped his protagonist with a trademark of his own: a pair of wrap-around Oakley sunglasses.

What’s your unofficial trademark?

(Sorry. The hat’s taken.)

Best Regards,

DB

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Eulogy for Zeake ... Part of the Family

Writers of mysteries and thrillers employ Death in their work all the time. I am no different. Death always finds its way into my stories in one form or another, but when I write it, I never consider how much pain is involved with Death. That changed today. As a writer, I compose scenarios of Death; I set the stage, position the players, and direct the action.

Zeake - 2010
Ten-Years-old

But that … is fiction.

Yesterday was Saturday. I watched over my son’s dog Zeake for the final day of his life. Zeake was a fourteen-year-old Yellow Lab; Dysplasia had taken his hips, he could barely walk, and his body was shutting down. He would not eat and he threw up any water he drank. I watch him constantly, trying to keep him comfortable, carrying him outside, and cleaning up when he had an accident in the house. We scheduled with the vet for today, Sunday morning, to send Zeake Home where he’ll be able to run and play with his golf balls again. It was the single hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life. Zeake is family, always has been and always will be, and I miss him terribly, as evidenced by the blathering mess I have become at this writing.

As a writer, most of my work mirrors reality. I draw from things that actually happen and mold them to suit my purpose. Without reality, there can be no fiction. But unlike fiction, reality is irreversible, and in matters of death, there is no reincarnate as there can be in fiction. So for today, at least, reality and fiction have nothing in common for me. If a fictional character I have invested in dies, I may feel a twinge of momentary concern at their demise, but as I turn the page, the feeling wanes. I take no stock in it, nor do I place anything higher than entertainment value on that which is unreal, even if of my own creation.

Today, there is no page to turn.

Some writers of romance are deft enough to evoke lasting feelings of anguish in their readers at the death of a character. I cannot. I am not that good. But I do know that for today, and for the near future until Time does its work, I will feel the sting of reality, and the unbearable heartache of losing someone I love dearly.... And I use the word ‘someone,’ intentionally.   

I feel for my son, Corey, most. He raised Zeake from a puppy, and taught him a multitude of things.

He taught him to retrieve beer from the fridge, but occasionally, Zeake would put a canine tooth through the can, and happily bring a spraying mess into the living room.

He fetched the golf balls Corey used when practicing his chip shots in the yard. Zeake never chewed them. He had one of his own for that. I remember being there when a neighbor asked if he could rent Zeake for that exact purpose.

Zeake would “speak” upon hand commands, fetch the paper, and one day when I was at Corey’s house, Corey sent him to meet the mail carrier truck. The mail-woman was new and a little afraid of Zeake at first. From the porch, Corey called to her. “Give him the mail!” She reached down and Zeake took it in his Lab’s soft mouth, and trotted it back to Corey. 

“Amazing,” the woman said. 

 I thought so too.

Once Corey said to me, “Watch this.” He told Zeake to fetch his shoes. Happy with tail wagging, Zeake returned with Corey’s shoes. They were different colors, but there was one left shoe, and one right.

Being a Lab, Zeake was a water dog. If he saw water, he made a beeline to it. It was all Corey could do to keep him on shore. I used to take my own lab Murphy to the beach with Corey and Zeake on rare occasion. Zeake would fetch the balls we threw out into the water, until he saw kids. Then he’d swim out to play with them, and forget all about us.  

The things he could do are too numerous to mention, but I think the thing that touched me most about that amazing dog, was his love for a small toy he had from when he was a pup; a stuffed red heart that he cherished. Another dog may have torn it to pieces, but Zeake loved it, and took care of it. We looked for that heart before leaving for the vet this morning, but could not find it. It broke my heart.

Zeake was more than a dog. For Corey, and all of us, he was a friend who greeted you at the door with a wagging tail and kisses, a part of the family, same as a brother or sister or mother or father. I know Corey will not be the same after sending Zeake Home, and I tried my best through my own tears and sobs to assure him that this was best for Zeake. I know he believed me, but that didn’t make it any easier.

I related something to him that I recalled reading that rings with undeniable truth. I knew this day would come, so it had a profound effect on me.

It’s titled:

THE 10 COMMANDMENTS OF DOG OWNERSHIP

I have taken the liberty of reprinting the last of them here.

 9. Take care of me when I get old. For you will grow old, too.

10. When I am old, or when I no longer enjoy good health, please do not make heroic efforts to keep me going. I am not having fun. Just see to it that my trusting life is taken gently. And be with me on that difficult journey when it’s time to say goodbye. Everything is easier for me when you are there. I will leave this earth knowing with my last breath that my fate was always safest in your hands.

And that’s how it happened. As difficult as it was for my son to let him go, he lay with Zeake, petting him and talking to him as the first needle sedated him, and the second….

On my way home, I found myself asking the question; “Why is Death so damn hard?”

The answer is...

… because we love.

R.I.P.

Zeakie Boy
2000 - 2014

It's so hard to let go....

I know this doesn't count as a blog ... but I just can't help myself!

I AM PUMPED!

My very first interview in a major magazine.

I'd act like I've done it before, but I HAVEN'T!


This is just TOO COOL!

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Why Twitter? Why Tweet.

Social Media.

It is the new way to market anything. LinkedIn, Facebook, Google+, there are more. But Twitter is rapidly becoming my favorite.

If you’ve read this blog before, you know I am a writer. Chain of Evidence, my debut effort, released last August. Since then I have been promoting the hell out of it on every platform I can access. I have several email addresses, a website, a blog, accounts on Google, LinkedIn, Crimespace, Goodreads, Gravitar, MARsocial, Meetups, Stumbleupon, YouTube, WordPress, Pinterest, two Facebook pages, (breath) and Twitter. Out of all these, Twitter is rising to the top as far as product exposure and branding, a word I seem to be hearing a lot lately.

I found not long ago that my on free Twitter account, I was limited to Following Two-thousand others. Up to that point in time, I was adhering to Twitter etiquette by Following everyone who Followed me. Made sense, since Twitter is all about numbers of Followers, and that it was only polite to Follow those who Follow you. The problem is, though, once you reach two thousand, that’s all you can Follow unless you want to pony up a few bucks, which I don’t. I gotta sell a few more books before that happens.

So I began looking at the Twitterers I Followed with a more discerning eye. I realized that most of the folks I Followed were writers like me, but some were artists … singers, actors, pretty faces … no one who could actually help promote me or do me any good. And after all, isn’t that what Twitter is supposed to do for you? So I began Unfollowing those who could not help me promote the book, to make room for those who could. Then one day, I saw it.

@AuthorAlliance Follows You.

Authors Alliance? I’m an author. Maybe they’ll ally with me.

So I clicked their link.

Author Alliance

@AuthorAlliance FOLLOWS YOU

#AuthorAlliance is where #Authors & #Readers come together. We promote 4 & 5 star #books in our tweets for readers' delight. #reviews#interviews #promotion

Earth · authoralliance.net

Wow! They promote books. I have a book. Let me Follow them and see what they’re about.

I went to their website and discovered that they did free book reviews. Long story short, I asked a young lady named Marlena H if she would be so kind as to review my novel. She accepted and posted it on the AA website. That was in September. She, and Author Alliance, and their RT’ers (that’s Re-Tweeters for you non-Twitter type) Tweeted the hell out of it, and still do. But that’s not all. Marlena tweeted that she was looking for authors to interview on her blog. I raised my hand and became her first interview. She still tweets that as well. If you follow me @dbcorey, you’ve more than likely seen a few.

That’s how it all started between Twitter and me. Following (no, not Twitter Following … just regular following); following you’ll see all the contacts I’ve made via Twitter in just two short months. All of the following (he-he-he) either reviewed the novel, or interviewed me on their blog, or both. Daria DiGiovanni interviewed me on her BlogTalk Radio show for an hour talking about Chain of Evidence and the writing process, and she Tweeted that for weeks leading up to the show.

Alana Munro

@AMauthor

Author, Blogger, Book Marketer, Mummy, Support-a-holic - counting my blessings, following my dreams and sharing inspirational insights.

alanamunroauthor.com

 Alana's Interview

 Daria DiGiovanni

@dariaanne FOLLOWS YOU

Passionate Pisces, Patriot, Author, Blogger, Internet Radio Host, Founder of #Writestream Radio, Co-Founder #WBTN Radio. #CDA#WBTN #CLFA

Florida · dariadigiovanni.com

Daria's interview

Bravebird Publishing

@BravebirdPub FOLLOWS YOU

We publish Women's Fiction from a feminist perspective because every girl deserves a little fiction in her life.

Chicago, IL · bravebirdpublishing.com

Bravebird Interview

Basically, it’s “Ask and Ye Shall receive.” Look for these folks. Search them out. Ask them to review your book and interview you or have you on their BlogTalk Radio show. It’s good promotion, and it’s just plain fun. Plus you get to meet a whole bunch of really cool people. I think you’ll find they are eager to help. If you think about it, they are promoting themselves by promoting you. They want to be known, and they want to be known because of books. Without you, they’d probably have to blog about food, yard work, or automotive repair.

Oh …

Don’t overlook LinkedIn. A lovely woman named Marni Graff contacted me to “Connect” with her. She also reviews novels and conducts author interviews, and posts them on her blog. Look for mine come February 9^th at AuntieM Writes.

Best Regards,

DB

Website - www.dbcorey.com

Twitter - DB Corey

Twitter - Detective Moby Truax

DB Corey on Facebook - tinyurl.com/mltv6rs 

DB Corey Author FB site bit.ly/DBCorey-Author

DB Corey on LinkIn - tinyurl.com/oftk7do

Meet Myster Write on Facebook – www.facebook.com/MeetMysterWrite

For the New Year – Immerse Yourself in a Good Book

 

People often say they read novels to “escape” into another life, or go to another world, or become another person, and for a little while, they leave their worries and cares behind. 

Turns out, there is more Fact to this, than Fiction. 

Last year about this time, I wrote my first blog as a published-author-to-be, titled 2013. I went back and re-read it, and found that it runs in

the same vein as this article. Following is a short excerpt.

“They [authors] entertain the masses by taking them out of their humdrum, everyday existence into the dynamic lives of the people they’d like to be: cops and robbers, astronauts and aliens, witches and warlocks ... hustlers and hookers.

We all wonder ... what would it be like?

The author shows us. Takes us there, and we become that which we seek; if for just a little while. The author has the power to transform our ordinary worlds into something extra-ordinary, and we seek them out in every bookstore we encounter.”

Here I speak of authors, but if you plug in the word ‘books’ nothing changes, because a book is the medium … the magic wand, the door to another world.

Embedded is a link to the article from MailOnline: How a book really can change your life, by Sarah Griffiths (Thanks Ken). It tells of a study by researchers at Emory University in Atlanta, and how they used Magnetic Resonance Imaging (MRI) to see the effects that reading a good book has, and how it can “transport” the reader.

Hopefully this post will do the same.

Have a Safe and Happy New Year, everyone!

Best Regards,

DB

Website - www.dbcorey.com

Twitter - DB Corey

Twitter - Detective Moby Truax

DB Corey on Facebook - tinyurl.com/mltv6rs 

DB Corey Author FB site bit.ly/DBCorey-Author

DB Corey on LinkIn - tinyurl.com/oftk7do

Meet Myster Write on Facebook – www.facebook.com/MeetMysterWrite

Illustration used with permission from Debbie Ridpath Ohi at Inkygirl.com