'For the times, they are a-changing', Mr. Patterson -- where the hell are you?

Dear Mr. Patterson:

I love the Passive Guy. His blog is totally cool, writing about the industry. It was because of one of his posts that I'm writing this letter. See, he's the one that pointed out that huge ad you took out, calling for a bail out of book stores. And you asked some good questions. I don't know how the government will answer, but I'd love to answer them myself. If you don't mind indulging me...

Click the pic to see the full ad.

If there are no book stores, no libraries, no serious publishers with passionate, dedicated, idealistic editors, what will happen to our literature?

You're right there, we'd kinda be screwed. Or would we? After all, what are Amazon, Books-a-million, and all of the other online booksellers? Chopped liver? Or perhaps we'd find alternate places selling books? After all, before the advent of storefronts that sold only books, there were places one could obtain books? After all, Gutenberg didn't print pages for his own benefit.

What you mean is what would happen if the brick-and-mortar store went away. And the truth is, not all brick-and-mortars are going away. Only the ones who refuse to adapt and grow in this new digital world. As Bob Dylan once noted, "for the times, they are a-changing." And nothing can be more evident than in the new publishing paradigm.

Who will discover and mentor new authors?

You're kidding, right? Who do you think discovers and mentors new authors now, dude? Because it sure ain't the publishers. Or their editors. JPatt, my man, you've been in the mainstream too long to know what it's like as a newbie hitting the scene. No one is doing the mentor thing. Your book is publication ready before it hits the acquisitions editor. The dwindling list of services with publishers these days is underwhelming when it comes to mentoring and discovering. It's about the all-mighty dollar and how much they can make on a book. And if it's the new Fifty Shades of Grey, who cares whether the author can write or not? Who cares whether that author writes another book again?

Who will discover new authors -- the same people that have always done it. The readers. The ones who buy the books, who read the books, who review the books, who blog about the books, who spread the word about the books. That's who. Where the hell have you been, dude?

Who will publish our important books? What will happen if there are no more books like these?

Uh, the indies? Small publishers, indie publishers -- you think The Celestine Prophecies started out as a trad published book? Or Fifty Shades of Grey? You think Amanda Hocking or John Locke needed a trad publisher? You know, Poe indie published. So did Jim Morrison. I'd say those books were pretty damned important for showing that the agency model is old and outdated. It's archaic to the point of being ludicrous. Indies are still gaining steam and more authors are leaving the trad world behind every single day! You are in more danger of becoming a dinosaur, my friend, than the traditional bookstore. Maybe you need to think about that one for a while.

The truth is, the publishing world is changing and if you're not willing to adapt to the new paradigm, you will go out of business. Look at Barnes & Noble. Amazon swept in, introduced the Kindle, and started promoting indie authors like crazy. They pretty much set the standard that we all follow. Apple joined when it became too obvious what was going on and made the cut as well. B&N refused and sat on what potentially turned into a gold mine in the publishing industry. By the time they decided to get involved, it was too late for them. And they're paying the price. They became the new dinosaur in the publishing world -- they're becoming extinct under the weight of their own lack of foresight. If you expect anyone to weep for them, you're nuts. If you think they deserve a bail out, you're dreaming.

Independent book stores and authors are the wave of the future and they're going to continue to be. Best sellers will be emerging there more and more, showing up on the New York Times and USA Today Best Seller lists. More and more indie authors are winning awards such as the Mann Booker Prize and Mann Booker International Prize. It's happening, my friend.

Book stores don't need a bail out. They need to get with the program or get extinct. They need to accept the indies and start promoting them with all of the fervor that they promote trads. Only then will they finally dig their way out of the tar pits.

You planning on joining us?

Sincerely,
Ms. Jesse V Coffey
Proud Indie Author since 2002

The Great Experiment -- latest results

Would you believe that I'm just now getting all the numbers together? I watched them periodically but haven't really had a chance until recently to put them all in one place. I've been working on an edit for publish before the end of April, along with a new WIP I'm writing. It really did slip my mind.

So, without further ado, here are the numbers -- so far -- for The Savior.

Total "Free Promotion" downloads: 4590
Total sales following promotion: 7
Total borrows for KDP Lending: 4

Considering that it'll be next year before the second book in the trilogy is up, that ain't bad. And it sparked sales of Salt of the Earth and A Wager of Blood. And the cry of the people went, "Wowza!!"

And so, we move on to the next book coming up -- the romantic thriller Wilde Mountain Time -- which will be published under the name of ... **drumroll please ** ... Siobhan MacKenzie. She'll be the name and face of all of my romance and erotica titles. I'm psyched about that one. And I'm currently writing my very first contemporary romance, Her Scottish Exile. Guess what -- no suspense, no three headed aliens, no fantasy -- urban or other. Just a straight forward romance. I'm psyched about that because I love the genre.

And at the same time, publishing In the Wake of Ashes, the third book in Lorrieann's Fylbrigge Saga (the working title of the series since I don't know what she wants to call it yet) and a YA fantasy by new author Kimberly Ryba, It's exciting around here. I can't wait! :-D

As things go, I'll keep anyone reading up to date. Thanks so much for your support.

Laters!

Dismissing a Stereotype

I'll warn you now that I tend to burble off at the mouth sometimes. I have my little think moments and you're welcome to read along with them. And discuss at your leisure. Enjoy this one -- it has a lot to do with The Savior.

I love writing historical fiction. I get a chance to live in other times with other people. Don’t get me wrong; I love the time I live in. But to be able to walk with the likes of Henry the VIII or Thomas á Becket or Catherine the Great is a thrill. But there’s always the problem of how to make historical people real to those of us in modern day. To introduce the elements of humanity, to see the many layers of a person – good and bad – which takes them from a fairly simplistic character to a person who could be sitting next to you on the sofa.

When it came time to write The Savior, I chose a Messiah as one of the main characters – not so much as the main character but certainly the reason the action was happening. And that proved to be a challenge for me. There are so many portrayals out there of Jesus. So many actors have portrayed someone of such great importance to so many – always with a quiet dignity, a regal bearing. How was I going to portray him? Follow that same path? Or find a different one? I decided very quickly that I was going to have to make this my own, to dismiss the stereotype of Jesus the Christ, if I wanted to make this my story and not just parrot what others had done before.

I did a lot of reading about who Jesus might have been really, beyond the way the Bible portrays him. Which involved quite a bit of learning about the “typical” Judean at the time, too. Did you know that there are a lot of Biblical programs on cable? And each program had a different take as well, always looking at what could have been. The History Channels – one and two – and the Biography Channel became my best friends. I DVRed a lot of programs and watched them several times.

I also had my own Catechism to draw on. I took my Instruction from the coolest nun ever, Sister Barbara. I don’t know if the Pope would have sanctioned a lot of what she taught me, but I do know she gave me a lot to think about. She encouraged me to open my mind and not accept the traditional just because. But she also taught me a lot of fascinating legends within the Catholic Church and I used them to form the basis of the plot. I wonder, sometimes, if Sister B wasn’t a Gnostic at heart. I would not be surprised to find out that she was.

So, rather than play the same old, same old when it came to the Christ, I decided to explore the humanity of the character. I picked up the action just after the brouhaha in the temple, the day that a twelve-year-old Yeshua gave the Sanhedrin one heck of an education. I borrowed from the legends that Sister B taught me, but also from a lot of the Apocryphal texts. The Yeshua of my story was raised as an Essene – a radical group that was very zealous in their beliefs, taking traditional Judaism to an extreme. They believed in a literal sense of the Messiah coming to kick the crap out of the Romans, taking over as a very real King with a palace and a kingdom here on earth.

The legends of the Catholic archives talk about the grand tour that Jesus took, the missing years between that day in the temple and the day he started his ministry. How he traveled from Israel with his uncle – Joseph of Arimethea – to see the lands of Gaul and the UK, then traveling down to Tibet. And how he learns of other beliefs, is influenced by them. The character becomes very real as he transforms from this bratty, arrogant kid to the Messiah that we have known and been taught of within the Christian religion. There are obvious changes in the “mission” he has taken on, something that fits in with the Bible’s take on it all – when he says he’s come to teach a new covenant. To sort of shake up the status quo a little with a gospel of love and peace.

In a literary sense, to show that change, I had to start with the exact opposite. In writing, I took very few liberties outside of the stories and the alternate gospels. But I did add that humanity to him, add that sense of the historical. Which added an interesting dimension, I think, and makes him very real to us.

Let the discussions begin.

Rough Excerpt from Her Scottish Exile (Contemporary Romance)

I made a deal with a friend of mine that if he'd go post a new recipe, I'd post an excerpt from my latest work in progress, Her Scottish Exile. After years of reading them, I'm finally writing my very first romance novel. It's rather exciting, really.

Her Scottish Exile is based on a short story I wrote a few years ago as a gift for a friend. I thought it would be just the thing to publish as an Amazon/KDP short. Problem is, I lost the bloody thing. So I decided to rewrite it. Thing about rewrites, you tend to embellish and fix and add. It's turning into a lovely novel and I'm quite excited about it.

So, here is a very rough draft of a scene between the heroine -- Lainie -- and the hero -- Richard -- after their first meeting. Richard has offered to show Lainie the horses on this farm outside of Edinburgh, Scotland, in a small village called Linlithgow. It being a bit windy and chilly, Richard has gallantly offered Lainie a bit of tea to get warm and a jacket she can borrow when they go back so he can show off the horses.

Enjoy!

He led the way and ushered her up the steps to his rooms over the barn. Opening the door, he waited until she’d stepped inside before following and closing the door behind them. “It’s no much but ‘tis comfortable. Ye can have a seat there if ye wish. I’ll put kettle on.”

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, maybe a plain décor, if any. But his small home was nothing like that at all. He’d gone to the trouble of painting the walls a very homey yellow, hanging pictures of landscapes and, yes, horses on the walls. He’d managed a very nice sofa and a loveseat in the living room, along with a television and a stereo. The floor was carpeted and warm. There was another door and she casually walked toward it. There was a separate bedroom with a very comfortable looking queen size bed. He had a desk with his laptop sitting on top, along with a desk lamp. More pictures of horses graced the walls and there were two large bookcases – full of paperbacks and hard covers – up against the far wall. She swallowed the urge to check out his reading material and strolled back to the living room.

There was a small kitchenette marked out with a dining area attached. True to his word, he’d put the kettle on the small stove and was setting out cups and saucers. When he saw her watching, he raised up to ask, “Would you care for biscuits?”

“Um, sure,” she answered. “How long have you been living up here?”

He opened a cupboard and pulled out a tin, laying out several large cookies on a plate. “Oh, been here about a year now. I’m hoping to have my own flat soon. Something closer to university when I go in the fall.”

She sat down at the table, watching him putter away. “What do you plan to major in?”

“Eh?”

“Uh, I mean…what’s your area of study? What degree are you going for?”

“Oh.” He hooked a stray lock of hair with his long index finger and pushed it back behind his ear. “I’m thinking of being a horse doctor, ye ken. A veterinarian. ‘Twas what I wanted to do…before.”

“Before what?” She propped her elbows on the table and leaned forward, resting her breasts on her arms.

His hand trembled a bit at that, but he managed to get the lid back on the tin and put it back up into the cupboard. He looked out of the corner of his eye at her before turning his attention back to the stove. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, realizing that she’d just stepped in something. “I shouldn’t have asked. I’m really sorry. You don’t have to answer; it’s none of my business.”

He sighed deeply, then turned around to look at her. “No, you didn’t know better. It’s…just…well…”

It broke her heart to see it. He looked lost and insecure. He seemed to be wrestling with something and she wasn’t sure how to make this easier for him. She came beside him, resting her hand on his arm. 

“No, really. You don’t have to tell me. It really is none of my business. But if you do want to talk, I promise never to tell a soul.”

The green eyes met hers, dark and brooding. He chewed on his lower lip for a moment, studying her. He furrowed his brow, trying to make up his mind. When his face relaxed again, he nodded at her, and poured the hot water in the teapot.

“Well, I already told Gerry and I’m sure he’s told Tessa. But I’d appreciate it if you told no one else. Please?”

She smiled up at him. “I swear it,” she answered, making a cross over her heart.

“You see, everyone else thinks I was in hospital for a time. And I was, see. When…”

“When your parents had the car accident that killed them. You were in the car too?”

He nodded. “I was a young lad. Sixteen.” He braced his hands on the cabinet, the muscles of his forearms standing out again. “Damn lorry bashed into us, doing sixty or seventy at least." His eyes darted to the corners of his eyes in a quick glance at her before returning to stare at the counter top. "Not paying attention to where he was going. Rolled our car. I was the lucky one, ken. I only broke both hips, my left leg, three ribs, and my left arm.” He chuckled to himself in a humorless fashion.

She moved closer, her arms going around his waist. He turned instinctively to her, holding her tightly. She laid her head against his shoulder, giving him her strength and silently encouraging him to go on. 

With a slight quaver in his voice, he did. “I woke up three weeks later. In traction for a long time – I don’t even remember how long it was. Took me two years to learn how to walk again. Two years and four surgeries. I didn’t even get to go to my parents’ funeral.”

“That’s tough.”

He shrugged, his voice artificially even and almost toneless. “I went to live with family for a while but I wanted to be on my own.”

“Don’t those stairs cause you problems?”

His voice was stronger now, the hard part had been said. “Wee bit sometimes. Only when it gets verra cold.” He disentangled from her embrace. “Here, ye best sit now. I’ll get the tea.”

She stepped back, smoothing her shirt front to have something to do. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Aye?”

“Why don’t you want anyone to know what happened? It’s not like it was your fault.”

He froze again, but this time didn’t go into details. “Here, tea. I’ve got milk and sugar, if you want it. And lemon from one of those squeeze bottles. I don’t use it, myself, but I have it if you do.”

“No, milk and sugar is fine.”

They sat in relative silence, drinking the tea and enjoying the cookies. She wanted to take his hand, let him know that she was still there. But he seemed to have closed off again, his face revealing nothing. She started chattering, just to fill the silence. He didn’t stop her, but he didn’t seem to be listening either. After several minutes of no response, she went back to drinking her tea and let the silence take the moment.

She watched him over the rim of her cup, his face was still and expressionless. There were traces of tears on his eyelashes but they didn’t fall and he made no move to acknowledge that he’d even felt that deeply. He’d now withdrawn deep inside of himself, and she was not going to be privy to his thoughts this time.

Holy Crap -- I cracked the Top #100!

Well, that just made my day. The Savior cracked the Top #100 Free Books, peaking at #38 overall. Wow. I have never had a book break that high. The last time I had a free download promo, the book made it up to #110 or so.

Holy monkey! The book has broken 4K downloads. And there's every possibility that it'll break 5K. I hope so, that would be super sweet!

And I got my first one star review -- the reviewer didn't like the language content in the beginning of the book. And never finished it. Okay, I can dig it. But the truth is, he's missing out on the character transformation. And I'm sure, the characterization of Jesus would have pissed him off big time. So, it's probably a good thing he didn't read past the second chapter. But damn, dude...

So, today is the last day for the free download. I've seen some sales of Salt of the Earth, which is another philosophical/liturgical viewpoint sorta book. And it's time to get writing on book two, The Apostle. And I think I'm going to go get me an ad on Goodreads. Just to see what happens. You never know.

Keep reading to find out what happens next. And go grab a copy, if you want one. Today is the last day to get it free -- The Savior.

Laters!

Free Download for the Easter Holiday

Well, this is the big weekend. The Savior is available as a free download to celebrate the Easter holiday. So, if you don't have it, go grab your copy.

If you dont' have a Kindle, not to worry. Amazon offers the Kindle app for free, for every smartphone, computer, tablet, or anything else you can read an ebook on.

Click here to go get it. And please, feel free to leave a review.

Laters!

Blog Tour and Promotion!

Oh, man. Why is it that I can kick ass in promoting everyone else's books but when it comes to promoting mine, I suck. Ah well, the nature of the beast. But it could also be that most of the blogs I follow are romance oriented and this book is Historical Fantasy. But it's got Romance in it. Does that count?

So, I'm putting together a blog tour. For all of you reading this, I would love to guest post on your blog. And if you're interested in reading a copy of The Savior, I'll hook you up! I've got a form to fill out -- a short one for your info -- and I can get right back to you with the guest post and the review copy and anything else you need. Click on that link and I will try not to sound so whiny any longer. ;-)

And to celebrate the release -- and the Easter holiday -- with a free download of The Savior. Yes, that's right, for this weekend of 3/29 - 4/01, you can go to Amazon.com and download your copy of the ebook for free. Make sure you grab it while you can.

Laters!

One last excerpt of 'The Savior' and the Great Experiment Part 3 begins

Two more days and the ebook format of The Savior is up for release. I've done everything I can do to get it ready. The cover is gorgeous, the prose is as problem free as human hands can make it. Everything is formatted and ready to publish.

And so, Part Three of The Great Experiment begins. To celebrate the release of the Savior on Thursday, I'm putting my book Salt of the Earth up as a free read for three days -- 2/27 - 3/01. Yup, that's right, a free read. Wednesday through Friday of this week, go to Amazon's webpage for the book and grab it for free. And don't worry, if you don't have a Kindle, you can get the app to read the book on any tablet, smartphone, or computer.

And I'll have the link posted all over on Thursday for The Savior. But for now, one last excerpt before the release. Enjoy.

"Aye," Liam confirmed, "Breach, just as I feared. Tobias, fetch me a pail of water and those rags from the bin by the door. Gwydion, you'll need to help me. Hold her back legs for me."

Toby grabbed the pail, and dashed out to the pond to fill it. When he came back, he snatched a handful of rags from the bin. By the time he had arrived with what he had been sent for, he saw Gwydion and Liam pulling the baby from the mother's body. They laid it gently down on the ground next to the mare; she was so exhausted, she could no longer move. The baby was glistening with the wetness of the blood and amniotic fluid. But something was still wrong.

Gwydion reached out a hand, not looking up. "Give me the rags, Tobias."

Toby handed them to him and brought in the pail of water. Liam and Gwydion took the rags and began to wipe the goo from the baby's body. Liam paid particular attention to the fragile ribs of the newborn and kept massaging in that area. But, the baby wasn't moving. Toby also saw, the chest wasn't moving – the baby wasn't breathing.

"Oh, Da, we're too late. Oh, damn!" Gwydion's frustration was evident in his face, and he threw the rag down on the ground and sat back on a mound of hay. 

Liam refused to give up, and continued to massage the body. "Come, wee one. You can do it. Breathe for me, now. Come on. Breathe...breathe!"

It became evident that the foal had been stillborn and nothing anyone could do would change that. Liam finally gave up his attempts and ducked his head, running his bloody hands through his hair. The mood quickly turned to despair and Toby leaned against the threshold.

Gwydion reached out to his father, laying his hand on the older man's shoulders. "Da, it was just not meant to be. You did what you could."

Liam nodded weakly, and turned to the bucket to begin washing his hands and arms from where he'd been inside the mare's body. "Aye, I know. I don't like to see a new life taken so brutally." He swore softly and sighed deep. "I wish I'd paid more attention to the poor mare."

Gwydion stood up and helped his father up. Liam brought the bucket out and Gwydion took up the rags, following him. They stopped outside the stall and Liam set the bucket on a hay bale. The two men were somber while they cleaned off the goo and muck from the birthing. Toby turned to watch them as they continued to discuss the hardship that losing this foal was going to cause. The foal had been promised to Toby as another compensation for his work in the fields with Liam. Horses were a rare commodity in the village and a death was a loss to them all.

Toby was the only one who heard the snort come from the stall. Again, his attention was brought back to the drama unfolding. He saw that Yeshua had moved from the mare's head to stand next to the foal. The newborn horse lifted its head and, in a disorganized ballet of knees and hooves, it wobbled to its feet in one jerk. It snorted once and quivered, shaking itself and its mane. Yeshua made the same gesture to the foal that he had to the mother, caressing its cheek with his hand, cooing softly.

Toby stood, frozen to the spot with his mouth hanging open and his chin practically touching his chest. He couldn't articulate what he was seeing; there were no words. He put out his hand, reaching out until he made contact with a shoulder and shook it hard. The shoulder belonged to Liam, who wheeled around quickly.

"Tobias, what do you – sweet Brighid, what have we here?"

Buy your copy of The Savior to find out what happens next -- release date 2/28/2013.