THE INDUSTRY IS CHANGING!

The industry is changing, the industry is changing, HOLY FUCKING SHIT, THE INDUSTRY IS CHANGING. And I’ll just throw in the usual disclaimer that I’m no industry expert, I’m barely even a part of this industry that I’m about to rant about, BUT, I am a writer—both traditionally and self-published—and I’m a reader.

This all started when a friend read one of my unpublished manuscripts and suggested I should self-publish it because the genre is weird and will make it hard to market to an agent or publisher. I thought about self-pubbing, but my eventual goal is to get an agent and I wasn’t sure if self-pub would be the truest route to that end. Then today, a different friend sent me a link to this article on Anne R. Allen’s blog about how self-publishing isn’t as clear of a route to an agent as it used to be.

All this information has got me thinking, and bitching about ‘the industry’. Publishing has gone through a whole slew of shit in the last decade. It’s gone from, ‘you aren’t on the big five, no one has ever heard of you’ to ‘HOLY SHIT THIS SELF-PUBLISHING ON KINDLE THING IS GOING TO MAKE EVERYONE FAMOUS’ to ‘MY GOD, THERE ARE 17 BILLION SHITTY, FREE BOOKS ON KINDLE WHY CAN’T I FIND A GOOD ONE?’ to ‘Kindle Unlimited is making books free and cutting into indie author profits how we will carry on?’ and so on. In short, the industry is changing.

I think if the publishing industry is smart, they will take a look at the music industry, because everything is changing. Technology is changing the world, for everything. I think the music industry has handled this change particularly shitty, and books can easily fall into the same hole. The biggest problem is free. Everyone wants everything for free and they want it now.

In response to expensive shit–$20 for an album, $30 for a book, $25 for a movie—people have started stealing shit. Piracy is a big deal and it’s not going away. Now, I’m not here to bitch about internet pirates. Honestly, I don’t know exactly how I feel about piracy. BUT people are taking shit because #1: everyone is broke and #2 they feel ripped off by ‘the industry’. Books are especially shitty in this case because they are charging $13 for an ebook. If you are going to charge $30 for a hardcover, at least the reader is getting a sexy book that looks nice on the shelf. Paying for ebooks feels like paying for air. You can’t see it so it’s hard to justify. Piracy is a big deal.

The next big thing is bundling. Bundling is HUGE and publishing has been stupid slow to react. You know why it’s huge? Because people USE e-whatever. They listen to music on their phone. They read books on their phone. They have sex ON THEIR PHONE. Okay, I’m not sure how that last one relates, but I said it anyway. People love the ease of electronic copies, but since they are paying for air, it’s hard to justify.

Easy way around that? You guessed it, fucking bundling. You bundle an ebook and physical copy. People read the ebook because it’s convenient, and then they put the physical copy on their shelf to show that they paid for something. Same with music. You know how I listen to music? On a record player because I’m kind of a hipster like that. You know what I won’t pay? $12 for an album on my phone. You know what I will pay $24 for? That same album on vinyl with a free digital copy. Best of both worlds.

The next factor in this whole mess is streaming services. Netflix, Pandora, Spotify, and now Kindle Unlimited. These services are a godsend for people who devour media. I personally love Spotify, I have converted many friends to its wonders. I pay for my subscription. TV watchers feel the same of Netflix (a service I also pay for), and readers probably feel same of Kindle Unlimited. As far as I know, artists hate these streaming services. Taylor Swift had all her music pulled off Spotify because art shouldn’t be free or some shit like that. I still haven’t figured out why she took her music off, though.

I’ve seen multiple articles about how Kindle Unlimited has murdered indie author salaries. The way artists get paid is changing. What absolutely sucks about is this: the biggest people it’s hurting are the indie artists. Whether it’s on Spotify or not, Taylor Swift is a multi-millionaire. Whether Fifty Shades of Gray is part of Kindle Unlimited or not, EL James has a boatload of money. Through whatever mix of money, marketing, and luck, those people have established their fame.

Do you think it matters to Cutthroat Shamrock if their music is free? Your fucking right it matters because in your mind you just said, ‘Who the fuck is Cutthroat Shamrock?’. Do you think it matters to me if people get my book on Kindle Unlimited and I get a few cents instead of a dollar? It can, yeah. I’m not a career author, but I’d like to be. Do you know how I can be a career author? Getting more people to PAY for my work. That matters to me, probably not to you so much. BUT if you like my writing and want to see more of it, I need time. Writing takes time, books take time. There’s an old saying something that includes time and money…*snaps fingers* what was it? Oh yeah, “He who doesn’t have a fucking dime, doesn’t have time to waste on art because food and gas and diapers are expensive and shit”.

So, the industry is changing. Do I have answers? Not really, other than the bundling thing. But we as artists all need to adapt, we need to get ready for the changing market. We need to get more creative. You know something I’ve seen in music for a while, but have only just now seen in books? Pay what you please media. I’ve seen more than one high-profile musician say ‘want it free? Take it. Enjoy it? Pay whatever you feel it’s worth.’ I can’t remember who, but I saw that same approach with a book the other day. Creative marketing is a big deal. The few super successful authors will always be successful and the rest of us are going to have to figure out how to change to keep up.

The last thing I have to say is a repeat: Art shouldn’t be free. I mostly agree with this. There is a lot of work involved in creating a book. I have put lots of time and effort and energy into each and every one of my books. Whether I make a million dollars or three cents, I will continue writing. It’s something I can’t shake. How many other authors can say the same? How many talented authors write for a living? Lots. If we don’t pay for their art, they will quit creating it. They won’t have a choice, we all need paid. So if you want to pirate a book, go for it. And in a decade when all your favorite authors quit writing books because everyone stole all their work, you don’t get to be angry.

Embrace the Grind #MondayBlogs

So I saw a maxim scribbled across an athletic shirt that caught my attention. Now, generally speaking, I absolutely hate athletic shirts with silly slogans on them. Every time I see a forty year old dude wearing Oakleys like he’s fucking Kenny Powers with his stomach hanging out of the bottom of his Under Armour shirt that declares ‘Clutch Performer’ I have an urge to ask him when, exactly, he performs under pressure. Probably a knee jerk dickhead reaction on my part, but hey, it’s how I feel.  Back on task, I saw a shirt and the motto read, ‘Embrace the grind’. Holy shit, I want one of those, but not for all that athletic shit. Ten thousand practice free throws a day is not my kind of grind.

But you know what is my kind of grind? Yeah, you guessed it, wordsmithing. If you aren’t a writer and think that writing a novel is as easy as dropping your ass in front of your laptop/word processor/typewriter/stone tablet and kicking out a hundred thousand or so words, you’re right. Well, sort of. Let’s just say you have made it through the entire process of finishing a complete novel. Counting beta reads and editing and all that jazz. Congrats, you’re a novelist. What’s next? Sit down and write your follow up masterpiece, right?

Wrong. Fucking wrong.

If you want to make any money off your novel you need to write a query letter and synopsis and research what agent would be the best fit for your hundred and sixty thousand word epic about a corn kernel’s journey through the small intestines of an aging biker. Then you get picked by an agent or publisher, you’re done right? Not quite Mr. Jumpy Pants. Drop some lead right in the seat of your Levi’s because there’s marketing to be done. Interviews, blog tours, and all kinds of other ‘hey, I wrote a book’ kind of posturing. Oh yeah, while you were writing your book however many months ago, you probably should have been blogging about what the fuck ever people blog about to build an audience. Yeah, audiences buy books. Sold books continue writing ‘careers’ and yes, I use the word career loosely.

So, that second book you were going to start, you remember the one right? Yeah, you had that kick ass idea for a story about a werewolf that changes form every time someone squeaks a squeaky toy titled ‘Like an Lichan’. It’s time to get started on that bad boy. NO, WAIT I SAY. Your publisher loved your breakout hit Colon Kernel and now they’ve requested a sequel. They wan’t to know if you can have them the first draft in two months.

Okay, so that whole scenario is a bit blown up, it’s true. But not by much. Sustaining a writing career (There’s that fucking word again. I don’t mean that you make a living off your writing, I just mean the act of your writing and everything around it) takes a lot of work. There is always a deadline (self imposed or outside imposed) and there is always pressure to perform. This book has to be better than the last one. I need to sell more copies. I need to diversify my bibliography. I need to actually find time to read other people’s books. I promised x,y, and z beta reads this month that I need to do. I need to blog. I need to market. I need to sit in a corner and cry for all my hard work that’s gotten no recognition.

Whatever.

You are always being pulled in a million different directions and at time it feels like too much to handle. It’s easy to get overwhelmed by the shit you don’t think about. That’s exactly the time you need to embrace the grind. This is why you do this. This is what you wanted, right? It’s what I wanted. I want fans to read my books and beg for more. I want to write more to give them. I want to share what I have to say, that’s why I started sharing my writing in the first place. So I say it again embrace the grind. That’s fucking right.

We’ve all got shit to do and shit we want to do. If writing is the thing you want to do, then you know what you’ve got to do. That’s right. Embrace the mother fucking grind. 

Myth of the Machina #WednesdayBlogs #DeusLikeAMotherFucker

While reading a review (First mistake, reading reviews. It generally goes against my nature, but this was a special case) the other day I read something that got me thinking. The reviewer pointed out that an otherwise good story was marred by an overbearing use of deus ex machina, or some other eloquently stated version of that, I don’t remember the exact words.
Wikipedia (Yeah, I know, not the most reliable source, but it works for this example so back off, ass) defines Deus ex Machina as a plot device whereby a seemingly unsolvable problem is suddenly and abruptly resolved by the contrived and unexpected intervention of some new event, character, ability or object.
Pretty nifty term, right? And we all love our nifty terms. The internet is full of them. Asshat, noob, dumb bastard, diddly fiddler, wanker, wombat, walrus, and wheezlefuhrer, for example. Okay, I might have made that last one up. Just testing you.
So this nifty new term is all about when a writer pulls some ol’ bullshit right out of his (or her) ass to resolve a plot. Makes sense, but let me ask you this: What’s the difference between deus and a just plain ending?
As writers, our job is to paint our characters into corners while surrounded by hungry boogey men with flaming pitchforks of hatred, or something like that. If a character was put into an easily solvable situation, then there would be no reason to continue reading, because there would be no danger.
What if you picked up a book and the blurb on the back read: Follow the harrowing tale of Gary Drinkwater as he tries to decide the fate of his breakfast. Will it be toast? Or will it be CEREAL? There’s also the non-stop subplot of his wife and her incapability of taming the intangible wardrobe.
Does that sound like something you would want to read? Fuck no you wouldn’t. That’s every day for most of us and those aren’t problems. The answer, by the way is cereal, it’s always been cereal.
Now what if the blurb read: Follow along as Gary Drinkwater tries to get to his kitchen table through the piles of death-blaster toting alien bullfrogs whose only weakness is fat steel drum beats? Meanwhile, his wife battles zombie appliances come back from the undead to cosmetically enhance her, from the inside out?
Sounds a little more interesting, right? Sure, it’s not Gaiman level prose, but it might be a fun story to read, yeah? Now, say in that second tale at the climax of the story the husband uses magic to summon the Wailers to his living room to ward off the aliens. That’s pretty fucking ridiculous, agreed? You might even be tempted to call it deus ex machina. No one saw that shit coming. Right out of left field, that solution just slapped you in the face like a Larry Bird fastball. Yeah, I know, Larry Bird played hockey. I’m not big on sports, okay?
However, when we break it down, we are talking about a story involving reggae hating aliens and living appliances, isn’t that pretty outlandish to begin with? So wouldn’t a pretty outlandish ending be fitting? Better than saying the whole thing was some stupid fucking dream.
Now, yes, I know I’ve gone a bit overboard with my example, but the point remains the same even if you dull it down a bit. The hero always gets put in a corner and there is always a surprising way out of it. Some might call that deus, but if surprising your readers is poor use of the deus ex machina, than I want to Deus Like a Mother Fucker. Serious. I’m going to deus all damn day.
Writers. Readers. Inhuman space monsters, please comment your feelings on this and feel free to call me an asshat. Also, I like to tweet a lot, so feel free to tweet any crazy ideas with #DeusLikeAMotherFucker (or #DeusAllDay  for the PG crowd) and I will retweet all of the good ones.

Burdin of Choice Cover Reveal!!!

perf5.250x8.000.inddLook at that. Ain’t she pretty? Or I guess he. Either way. Here’s the cover for my newest book, Burdin of Choice. It’s the sequel to Beasts of Burdin, so if you haven’t read that yet, you need to get on it. Like, today. Please?

 

The sequel is coming out in November and here is the blurb if you need words to go along with your fancy cover.

 

Ty Burdin is back. Back to drinking and back to avoiding demons. He is, of course, the leading expert in his field. In both subjects.
That’s probably why, when a shady character, or customer as Ty likes to call them, offers him way too much money just to locate a missing car and some mysterious cargo, he readily agrees. The dude was human after all—Ty’s prime target client base.
Of course, along with the money comes a slew of disappearing people. All of whom Ty tries to ignore while tracking down the car. They might be demon related, which of course, Ty will have nothing to do with.
There’s an agency for that, and Agency business is not his. Period. 
Until today.
Now, Ty Burdin is to drinking and back to … everything he vowed never to get involved with again. 
Question is, which one will kill him first? The booze? The demons? Or the Agency?

Cover Reveal BULLET By Jon Lister

 

 

 

 

bullet Hey guys, just wanted to share some cover love for my man Jonathan Lister. This book is the sequel to last years smash werewolf hit, Crossroads. If you haven’t read it, you should go do that, like soon. It’s good. Has a nice taste of smart-assery to it that I can appreciate. In the meantime, LOOK AT THE PRETTY PICTURE!

 

 

 

 

 

Release Date: June 16, 2014
Target Reader: Adult
Keywords: Urban FantasyWerewolf
Back of the Book
A father’s love doesn’t bend, so what happens when it breaks?
Corruption, dark truths, and a new Alpha mean Leon Gray’s days of running without a pack are over. At least, that’s what everyone but him believes.
He’d rather be helping his teenage daughter navigate the landmine life of a full werewolf, finish out his servitude as bodyguard to a former Demos City reporter and, in all honesty, not be taken advantage of by a beautiful woman who really only wants him for his body—figuratively and metaphorically.
Of course, the only way any of that might happen is if he’s dead. That’s likely given the information the reporter has unearthed and the territorial battles already underway between packs. If only Demos City’s corruption didn’t have such deep roots—older than the bones of the city or any of the werewolves who’ve decided to claim it. A city can only take so many power hungry mongrels invading it at one time, and Leon can only take so much knowing his daughter lives within its boundaries.
War has come to Demos City.
It’s up to Leon to fix … what’s most important to him.

Reading, writing, and stealing

I started writing, like, actually writing with the intent of finishing a novel, a little over two years ago. Yeah, I’m kind of a noob, but that’s okay ‘cause it works in my favor sometimes. You see, before I started writing, I didn’t read a whole lot. A topic I’ve already covered. Short story: The shit I had to read in school bored me and I didn’t know people wrote novels I wanted to read until much later.

Things changed when I started writing, though. I like to think of myself as having a bare minimum not-quite-stupid level of intelligence and the sponge residing in my cranial cavity told me something. Before you ask, it’s not an actual sponge. No, it’s more like a coral reef kind of thing. Either way, it’s alive and it talks to me.

So, the sponge said, “Hey, dumbass, if you’re going to write books, don’t you think you should read them too?”

To which I replied, “Why?”

“So you don’t sound on paper like the dumbass you are in real life, dumbass.”

The sponge is very fond of calling me dumbass. It’s like a cute pet name, only slightly less cute and less puke inducing. You know what I mean, Snookums?

The sponge had a valid point. How could I expect to string together words in a coherent way if I never actually read words strung together coherently? To satiate the sponge’s constant nagging as to my semi-illiteracy I started reading while I was also writing.

And now I come to my point. If I had read as much as I have now, I would never have finished my first book or any thereafter. Crippling paranoia of copying someone else’s work would have killed me deader than dead right on the spot. I find when reading it’s natural to compare to things you know, for reference sake, I guess. It’s set in space like Serenity or it’s about people trapped on an island like Gilligan, or it about bloodthirsty investment bankers that do blow off the wombs of maiden hyenas to retain their poster-boy good looks like Wolf on Wall Street. Disclaimer: I’ve never actually seen that last one, I’m just filling in blanks from what I saw in the trailer.

Comparing as a viewer is totally fine. It helps you define what you like. For example, Book F sounds a lot like book R. I really liked Book R so therefore I would also, probably, enjoy Book F. As a creator, comparing wreaks havoc on the fucking process. I start to write a scene and then I get all, “Man, that’s just like that one scene in Book F. Fuck my life.” *Slams delete key with all the anger of a thousand political talk show hosts*

The reason I bring this up is: I started reading a book, Devil You Know, it’s a good book that so far is very enjoyable. It’s about a witty, down-on-his-luck exorcist who has been retired for over a year and takes a job to help out a friend. My debut novel, Beasts of Burdin (Out February 10th, preorder today!) is about a witty, down-on-his-luck demon hunter who has been retired over a year and takes a job to help out his brother.
Sound similar? Yup.

Did I steal anything from Devil You Know? Nope. I hadn’t even heard of it when I started writing Burdin. But, I had heard of it then, instead of now, I can promise Burdin would have been a completely different book.

Now, I have a little more confidence in my creative abilities. I know that there are always going to be similar stories to what anyone writes; there are no new ideas, only new ways of telling them, and all that jazz. I also trust my integrity to never steal a person’s work or ideas. Sure, some things influence me. I see a powerful story and think, “Man, I want to write like that,” and possibly try to incorporate some elements of what I like into my style.

So in a short way, being ignorant of other books has helped my writing. Would I suggest an aspiring writer stop reading? Fuck no. Go read a book. Preferably mine. Not for literary content though. I’m still pretty bad at writing, obviously.

 

Writing & Raising Kids? Same Thing, Pretty Much

The other day I was thinking about all the ways parenting can go wrong. I’m not sure why that day in particular, just call it Parental Paranoia: PP for short. So I get hit with the PP, bad, and I start thinking about how hard it is to figure out what’s right to do with your kid’s upbringing, and shit. At this point the mush on one side of my brain overflowed into the mush on the other side and a theory struck me: There are many similarities between writing and raising a non-asshole child.

Think about it, when the idea first strikes you (I’m gonna make a new human/I’ve got a great idea for a story) you’re all about it. You can’t think of a single fucking thing that could go wrong because your idea is so perfect. So, obviously, you commit to the idea.

In the very beginning there is a lot of research and plotting. For example, you have to find out how to convince the stork to stop at your house on its next flyby. That can be a tough one, those ol’ birds are fickle bitches. Then you have all kinds of required reading: What to Expect While You’re Expecting, and, and…other stuff. Internet articles? Youtube videos? Actually, no, that is a terrible idea. STAY AWAY FROM YOUTUBE!

The writer has research to do too. Namely, how to make your novel not suck. That’s the hard one, I think. After that there’s Elements of Style and What to Expect When You’re Expecting a Best-Selling Novel. Okay, that last one’s probably not a real thing. Maybe it should be.

Now that you’ve got your research done and your story/hellspawn brewing you’re riding high. You’ve got this. How hard could it be? Millions of other people have done this very same thing and millions of other people aren’t like you, they’re morons. If a moron can write a book/make a human, you can too. And you’re well-read on the subject. You can tell me about Chekhov’s gun/proper placenta cooking methods.

Then comes the big day, the day the hellspawn bearing fowl drops off its package/the day you get, oh say, five thousand words in to your first draft. This is the first instance of PP for most people, and it usually requires a change of clothing on both fronts. All of the sudden, every. Single. Bit. Of research. Goes right out the fucking window. You officially know not one damn thing about infant raising/wordsmithing.

After days/months/years of PP (it depends on the length of the work/the difficulty of the hellspawn in question) you find a groove. You’ve read all the reading and taken tips from all those other “professional” parents/authors. All of the information has wormed its way in to your brain. At some point you will have the epiphany that every single word they said is BULLSHIT. It is true that some people raise really good children and some people write really good books, but what worked for them will almost certainly not work for you. The world just isn’t made like that. Especially the ‘no yell’ parenting people. Show me someone who says they haven’t flipped their lid on their kids because they were having a shit day and could only take hearing the same question repeated so many times and I’ll show you a liar, probably.

Back on task. You’ve been in your groove for a while and things are good. You’re children/characters are behaving mostly as they should and things seem to fall in to place. This is when things get dicey. Reviewers. You have put all of your palmflesh and vocal cords in to molding the perfect angel/work of art. Now you are forced to send it out to the world and see what other people think. Children get this in the form of teachers and authors get reviewers. There is nothing better than the feeling of being told your angel/art is really fun to be around, but it’s a very scary process either way.

The last part of the process is being finished. Finished? Yeah, it’s some more bullshit. You are never finished parenting/writing. You will always wish you could go back and change something you did in the beginning, but will have to settle with nudging what you have in the right direction and hoping for the best.

In closing, here is a thought on the matter from expert character-wrangler Danielle Shipley:

The similarities grow more starkly apparent when the characters are having toddler-like meltdowns. Character: Why do I have to suffer this plot?!

Author: Because I said so!

Character: YOU’RE NOT MY REAL MOM!

And then of course the author goes into the whole “I brought you into this world, I can take you right out again!” thing…

 

Well said, Ship, well said.

Reviews are a’comin

In exactly one week, advance reader copies of my debut novel, Beasts of Burdin, are going to be sent out to book reviewers. That means people who read books for a living, or at least a very passionate hobby, are going to be flipping through the pages of something I created. Me. A high school dropout who manages a pizza place. Damn. So yeah, I’m scared shitless. This seems like a good time to talk about my personal ratings system and what I’m expecting from the whole reviewing process.

 

I rate my books on a five star scale and everything I’ve read I’ve rated on Goodreads if you’re curious as to my tastes in books. (You shouldn’t be. I have awful taste. Just kidding. I read awesome books, usually) If I start a book and its just something I can’t get in to by no fault of its own I don’t rate it. If I step out of my comfort zone and don’t like it, it’s not the books fault, it’s mine.

*1 Star – I wouldn’t recommend this for anyone. Not only can I not think of anything nice to say, I can only think of terrible things so I’m just going to keep mouth mouth shut and let this one, lonely star speak for itself.

**2 Stars – It could have been better, but I’m not pissed for having stuck with it. It wasn’t great, but it had enjoyable aspects.

***3 Stars – This book was completely average and I don’t mean that in a bad way. There is nothing wrong with average. It just means I enjoyed it as much as I would a normal book. A Knight’s Tale is an average movie and I will sit down and watch it every time it’s on TV.

****4 Stars – Now were cooking with something slightly more combustible. Four stars means I really enjoyed it and would definitely recommend it to a friend in need. Four star books have something that really makes them stick out from the crowd.

*****5 – Holy shit I can’t believe I just read that. Best. Book. Ever. That’s my five star. My favorite books of all time fall into five star territory. It’s where the best of the best reside.

 

That’s not how everyone feels, but it’s a system that works for me. Now, what does all this mean for Burdin? Am I going to be hurt if someone rates Burdin one star? Fucking of course. I worked hard on this book and it means a lot to me. Am I going to be mad at a reviewer for giving it one star? Fucking of course not. People have opinions and Burdin isn’t for everyone. Neither is anything. Ever. There is no one media that all human beings agree on. I even know one guy who doesn’t like the Red Hot Chili Peppers. One guy is all that stands between RHCP and universal love.*

 

Am I going to jump up and down if someone rates it five stars? Damn straight I will. I worked hard on this book and it means a lot to me. If someone else appreciates my story that much I will be honored. I will also be honored by every single reviewer who writes one word, good or bad, about my book. They took the time from their life to swim around one of the many stories in my head and that means a lot to me. Reviewers: I thank you, for better or worse.

 

I don’t expect to change the world with Beasts of Burdin. You’re not going to change your religion or have some life changing epiphany about how the world works. If I did my job right you will close the book and say to yourself, “Huh, that was fun” and that’s all I’m aiming for. If that means one, three, or five stars, so be it.  I’m just happy someone read it.

 

*Not actually proven, just a theory I’ve been working on.

 

B is for Benny Imura #AtoZchallenge @JonathanMaberry

ImageToday is day two of the April A to Z challenge. The theme of my posts is what has inspired my writing.

Today’s post is Benny Imura, the lead character in Jonathan Maberry’s Rot & Ruin series. It is a teen series about life after the zombie apocalypse. I can’t remember how I came across the book, but I was very skeptical about reading a teen novel. For whatever reason I just assumed it wouldn’t be very good since it was for “kids”. Boy was I wrong. I’ve read all three of the books in the series and other than a lack of strong language, I couldn’t tell you how this was any different from an adult novel.

The story is also heart-wrenching, something that I was not expecting from a book about zombies. Some gore and some rotted fight scenes I was ready for, but not the emotional agony the characters go through for the entirety of the third book.

Now I realize that just cause it’s teen, doesn’t mean it’s bad. Maybe I’ll even write a teen novel one day…

Image

Recap:

A is for Atmosphere

B is for Benny Imura

P.S. I’ve just started a contest that will run through the end of this month. All you have to do is follow me on twitter and tweet this message: Follow @AlexNaderWrites and RT this for a chance to win A copy of John Dies at the End in paperback http://tweetsw.in/2191/

More info here.