Author: Year One

As this February ends, I mark 1 year since THE SAMARITAN was released. So while I’ve been a “writer” for as long as I can remember, this is pretty much my first year as an “author.” With that in mind, to celebrate one year as an author, here’s 12 things I learned in the last 12 months.

Publishing a novel is hard . . . Writing a book? Easy. Rewriting a book? Slightly tougher. Getting on board with a publisher who—gasp—wants to publish the book? Rewriting repeatedly, absorbing editorial comments, the cover, the dedication, trying to remember who to put in acknowledgments, the bio, the author photo? The “is anybody going to read this, is this any good” feeling? Staring at your promotional plan and wondering if you can bring yourself to read in public? Going to a reading with 8 people, and then 80 people, wanting to soil yourself no matter what the audience size for entirely different reasons? Coming to terms with the fact that the most visceral, violent stuff you can come up with will now be out there for public consumption? All that stuff is pretty hard. Fun, but hard.

. . . but not impossible. The writing world is rife with stories of perseverance. It doesn’t happen overnight, but I truly believe if you want it to happen, it’s going to happen. I can’t even get a count on how many hundreds of thousands of words I’ve written to get to the 73k that is bound between the two covers of SAMARITAN, how much I needed to learn and discover and work out. I can barely remember when I started putting words to paper, but it’s been over fifteen years. The key is don’t get stuck or married to one idea. Write it and move on. The best is always yet to come, but you’ve got to do the right now to discover it.

Independent publishers like Blank Slate Press can be incredibly viable and effective. They’re not bound to tradition, they’re nimble, flexible, daring, they work hard, they return calls and emails same-day, they write checks that clear. They’re the guerilla fighters that win while the lockstep redcoats get popped off one by one.

The feeling that your first book will be the noose that hangs your second book? Totally real. Just to reiterate—totally. Real. I approach my second novel clenched up as if the manuscript is going to punch me in the face.

Social media and platform creation is paralyzing and difficult for me. I’m just not consistent enough with it. I never feel like anything’s worth posting, I barely know how to operate a hashtag, it’s just a complete extension of social anxiety disorder that branches into a virtual world. Must. Do. Better.

The author’s personality and delivery is just as important as the quality of the book when it comes to selling the book. I gave a “lecture” to a bunch of college kids who didn’t seem like they particularly cared to hear from some “author.” After my talk, which was more of me just being myself than anything else, a lot of them bought books. Why? “Because I thought this lecture was going to suck but it all sounds pretty cool.” Or something like that. Either way, I moved a lot of books that day and learned a lesson. You’re not just marketing the book, you’re marking you.

I’d rather be from a town of 600 people than a city of 6 million. The small town I’m from? Yeah, they do a hell of a job of supporting the locals. I think that everyone read it, bought it, recommended it, or talked about it at some point. It’s easy to get lost in a big pond. The small pond Patoka ripple effect was pretty amazing. 

You better keep writing your ass off. Eventually what you’re writing today is going to be yesterday and everyone wants to know what you’ll have tomorrow.

Balance is important—so is having a wife that keeps you both balanced and grounded. It’s quite a luxury to have a gentle voice tell you to put that damn laptop away. She helps me remember that life comes first.

Physical fitness is a secret weapon for a fiction writer. My longest writing sessions and some of my best ideas came after a really traumatic, weight-filled workout. If you’re a writer that thinks better during or after a walk, kick it up to a run, a few sprints, a few Olympic lifts. Your body and mind will thank you.

You get to ask cool questions and do cool stuff in the name of “research.”  No one says no to anything if they think it’ll make it into a book.

You can connect with readers, but you can’t make your non-reading friends into readers. This one is self-evident. I don’t need to name names here, but I can think of one dude that had an ARC of my book and now, over a year later, I think his family has read it and he still hasn’t. I haven’t found that magical power that makes non-readers into readers quite yet. 

Books, Beers, Bub's, Bars, and Havin' a Blast

Book events are like a box of chocolates--you never know what you're going to get.

On Saturday, I got the really good chocolate with the caramel center.

Bub's Pub in Sandoval, Illinois, is the Cheers of my hometown region.  Everyone indeed knows your name.  Parties are scribbled onto a dry erase board, which magically reels in a nice turnout and a great time.  I'm no exception--a friend had the awesomely brilliant idea to have a book party at Bub's, and I wouldn't exchange the moments I experienced on Saturday for anything.

It was an opportunity for the many people in the area who snagged my book to catch me for a discussion and a signature.  It was a great way to catch up with family.  It was a nice night out with my lovely wife.  It was great to see some friends I hadn't seen in a while.  And it was cool to grab the house mike, and skip reading or talking about myself or my book and just tell everyone thank you for the support.

I had a bunch of books behind the bar and I came with some extras never thinking I'd need them--and left empty-handed.  The support continues to be incredible.  I had the chance to talk to almost everyone about the book and plans for the future, and thank them in person.  Just a whirlwind evening that was quite surreal.  And it was nights like this that made me realize what an honor it is to have the love and support of so many people behind me on this journey.  It's touching and motivating.

It makes me reiterate what I promised myself I would do as the book hit print--no email, Facebook message, Tweet, text, or call will go unresponded.  If you're in the area and you want to talk about writing, reading, the book, anything--I'm there.  Every classroom event, library, workshop, book club--I'm one call away.  I wanted to get the most out of this experience, and that means total access, making myself a boots on the ground author, but also, a resource that is completely available.  Because when it comes down to it, I'm not looking for readers to be my fans, I'm a fan of readers, and want to give as much as I can when it comes to this experience.  

Perhaps that sounds a little silly.  And it just shows that I don't have a gazillion fans knocking on my door that I can make such a pledge, but I'm going to do all that I can to live up to it, for as long as I can.  But one promise I know I can keep--I don't care if it's my next book or my tenth book, whether it's a small release or a New York Times bestseller--you will definitely be able to find me at Bub's doing the same thing.

So thanks to everyone who came out, and thanks to Bub's Pub for hosting.  And yes, that is the legendary Bub in the photo.  (Not the blonde, that's my wife Krissy).  

These Characters are a Work of Fiction . . . Aren't They?

You are not a character in my book.  Trust me. 

We’re getting to the point where a few people have read the teaser, or maybe a few pages, and are making connections between reality and fiction.  Is Fred Dale?  Is so and so Mack Tucker?  Who is this?  What about this character?  Did this chapter really happen to you? 

I'm sort of used to this, from my short stories.  I have come to the conclusion that it is not uncommon for readers who know the author to reflexively search for connections to reality.  And while I can confidently insist that "you" are not a character, I can also say that on a cellular level, you may indeed  be part of the book because you are part of my experiences.  

A writer has a well they can dip into that is extremely valuable and helps make the best fiction—the well of experience.  The rest is completely made-up, but even the “made up” pieces are filtered through the writer’s reality.  I think the best fiction comes when the steadying details of reality and experience are completely married to fictional enhancements.   Sometimes this is done first-hand, sometimes it's done through an amazing amount of research (see Palahniuk, Chuck, a notorious researcher).  An example is my story, “Detail.”

I have cleaned cars since I was a teenager.  It was a decent buck and I enjoyed the process of turning something chaotic into something neat and clean.  Over the years, I have read articles, written articles, used thousands of products.  Would I ever write a story about a car detailer?  It’s pretty boring cleaning things up all day.  But I mixed this real well of knowledge with the made-up hook, the “strange attractor” that makes it a story instead of nonfiction—a car detailer cleans up the vehicles of people who have done bad things inside of them.  The story grew from there, new fictional things popping up after each draft.  But in the reviews, one compliment I continued to get was that the story works is because the car detailer knows how to clean the cars—there are tips and products that draw the reader in.  It creates an authenticity that helps the fictional parts work. 

When creating a character, a vehicle, a room, a town . . . it’s like cooking.  I have ingredients in my head.  For “Detail,” I had just completed the cleaning of a friend’s car—so it was fresh in my mind, and easy to use as part of the setting.  Maybe I saw a weird guy in a strange town, and used that description on a character.  Perhaps you said something to me many years ago that I thought was interesting, and it stuck in my notebook all this time, and becomes a piece of a character’s sensibilities.  A dash of this, a sprinkle of that . . . fiction is nothing but a Frankenstein creation built from the pieces of “real” inside of a writer.  The funny part is, even the most out of the world stuff comes from that “real.”

 

In The Samaritan, Dale Sampson can regenerate his organs and limbs.  How could reality be the basis for me describing this?  Because I know about surgeries from doing the research.  I've been on the operating table a time or two.  I know about healing from doing it myself.   I read a lot.  Interviewed a little.  I often sit and ask myself, “How would this person react to such and such?”  Sure, it’s fiction on the page, but it’s arrived at through my own meditations.

When I wanted to create a small town, I took the small town I lived in and then used the powers of make believe to make it smaller.  In reality, it's a nice, kind, warm town.  But I made it a little darker.  Seedier.  When I think of a playground, what do I think of?  Yes, that playground.  But then my imagination can move the pieces around.  It can build a new basketball court.  Inhabit it with different people.  Hell, I can drop a meteor on it if I wanted to.  

Characters are the same way.  Mack Tucker is an insane confluence of every single crazy friend I’ve ever had.  And trust me when I say, I’ve had some crazy ones.  But Mack doesn’t exist. He’s not my best friend from high school, or one of my goofy college friends.  He’s Mack Tucker, and he has the flaws and sensibilities I made up for him, but the reason I could inject him so strongly with them is because I have observed them in so many different people. 

So Dale Sampson is not me.  I am not Dale Sampson.  But he definitely sprang from a part of me I once knew, so I took that awkward period of my adolescent life and put it on steroids to make Dale into the introvert I wanted him to be. 

Anyone who knows me well and reads The Samaritan may have flashes of recognition, but that’s only because my well of experiences may be similar to yours.  Heck, some of us may share more wellwater than we would care to talk about.  But I firmly believe that fiction is what makes fiction interesting, and those bits of experience is what makes fiction believable.

So there you go.  These characters are a work of fiction, but the author and his experiences are not.  

Five Awesome Writing Nuggets

Here are five random pieces of writing advice worth sharing.  These are nuggets that I heard, and they set off an “ah ha” moment.  They are nuggets I’ve often recited when asked for advice.  Some are useful, some may just be a handy FYI.  I share them with you now, in no particular order:

1 – Every writer has a published story he or she wishes had never seen print.  This is usually among the writer’s first publishing credits, when the buzz of sending out stories and SASE’s is awesome, when sealing the envelope seems a tad more exciting than sitting down for yet another rewrite.

I remember this because I am guilty, but I’m not alone, and it’s not a fatal mistake or anything, but something I wish I would have heard a little earlier in the game. 

2 – One of the most valuable talents a writer can develop is the ability to self-edit.  This can only be done by critically evaluating what works and doesn’t work in the fiction of others.  Once you can pull that off, it becomes easier and easier to find flaws and strengths in your own work.  My MFA program was vital to developing this skill from ground zero (and it’s still developing of course, and I don’t think anyone ever wants to NOT give a trusted colleague a story to look over and just trust themselves).  You can make best use of the feedback avenues you have at your disposal when you can make some excellent headway in rewrite on your own by putting that editor hat on. 

3 – Concentrate on nouns and verbs for strong writing.  I think that novice writers, or simply folks that don’t write until it’s time to put together an email or letter or report, rely far too much on adjectives and adverbs.  That is the primary difference that I have perceived in my exposure to lots and lots of diverse work, in both the writing and professional realm.  What is better writing, “quickly ran” or “sprinted?”  “Big man” or “giant?”  You get more done with less when you focus on the best nouns and verbs you can come up with.  An adverb, to me, is an easy to find note to rethink that particular phrase—just look for the “ly” words and stare at it a while until the right verb comes along. 

4 – “If you write something for which you were given a check, and that check did not bounce, and you paid the light bill with the money, then I consider you talented.”  I read this Stephen King quote when I was much younger, and typed it out and hung it up.  Why?  Because I wanted Stephen King to consider me talented, and he had given me a roadmap to do it.  That’s why I never cashed that first check for eight dollars that I earned for a story called “The Beautiful Man,” (um, see #1 for how I feel about that story).  This was proof that Stephen King thought I was talented, even though I never did figure out if it bounced or tried to pay the “light bill” with the massive sum of cash.  But this is proof that goal-setting is important, that inspiration works, and that if you do indeed get paid for something you wrote (which is extremely, extremely difficult) then there is no question you have some talent.  Yes, even you Stephanie Meyer. 

5 – Finish your first draft.  Writing is just like sports . . . finishing is the key to success.  Finish your tackle, finish at the rim, close out the baseball game, finish your block, finish, finish, finish.  Finish your first draft.  Why?  Because you’ll be surprised at what happens by the time your “lost project” is done.  Because you’ll learn how to write by making mistakes.  Because you can always go back and fix it later.  Because the second half of this story or novel might end up being the first half of an even better one because you were writing background the entire time, gaining momentum for the good stuff.  There are times that the lure of something shiny, new, and perfect (the next great idea!) have come calling.  A concept so awesome you should drop this crappy project and get to work on the real thing.  You know what you do when this happens?  Finish what you’re working on first. 

The Samaritan exists because I finished three novels before this one.  Much longer and crappier novels at that.  Two of them I knew were dead in the water, but I finished them, stuffed them in a drawer, and moved along.  I learned from them.  Hell, I may even go back and salvage some parts down the road.  But I’m glad I forced myself to finish. 

And The Samaritan grew out of fragments and pieces of a totally different novel that I had in mind, and I just kept plugging away, trying new things, and by the time I had fifty terrible and fragmented pages along with a surprisingly decent short story, I knew I had to keep working until whatever it was that was happening had been completed.  I had to see it through, and I did, and now I have a novel that I’m proud of. 

I cannot end this blog without thanking my first MFA instructor (and a hell of a nice guy to boot), Michael Nye, who told me at least two of these nuggets (numbers 1 and 2) for the first time, and continues to advocate 5, and I’m willing to bet enjoys nouns and verbs instead of adverbs.  Just a hunch.  And yes, he pays his light bill.  Enjoy his posts at http://www.missourireview.com/tmr-blog/. 

PS - I have decided to use a bigger font on blog posts.  Mainly because someone said the print was small to read on a computer.  If you love or hate my fonts, sound off.  But this is the maximum size I can tolerate without including pictures written in crayon.  

Knocked Stiff by Donald Ray Pollock

I was recently floored by praise for my book from Donald Ray Pollock.  Thinking back to when I first discovered his work, I thought I would urge anyone who reads this blog on occasion to run out and discover him as well. 

His collection, Knockemstiff, is simply fantastic.  It's the type of raw, fast, electric fiction that plugs into your head and rattles you . . . a book like a Taser.  Knockemstiff, Ohio is the location and it's a real place, one that Pollock knows well, one full of characters you will not soon forget. 

But I don’t want to make this an infomercial.  You can look at all the well-deserved praise for the book and order a copy on Amazon by clicking here.  Do it, you won't be sorry.  

I want to talk about the night I knew I was going to buy and read this man’s book.  I was in St. Louis to see Chuck Palahniuk, who was going to read one of his stories, sign some books, and do a live interview.  Along for the ride was a “who is this guy?” named Donald Ray Pollock, who was on tour with Chuck. 

He basically “opened” for Chuck by reading a story from his collection, “Bactine,” about two men who—you guessed it—huff Bactine to get high, hang out at a donut shop at 3 a.m. and hit on the less-than-desirable women that arrive.  Sound funny?  Well, it is.  There was laughter at several of the zinger lines, the turns of phrase, the rich and unexpected language of the inhabitants of Knockemstiff . . . but I specifically recall an underlying tenderness in the prose, an adoration for these characters.  They held a certain kind of nobility, and the story ended with a hint of sadness.  These weren’t caricatures meant to entertain—these were people engaging in their lives, no matter what tragic and strange turns those lives were taking. 

The story was fantastic.  And while Chuck had his line of fans that curled out the door, Donald had the place to himself.  He seemed at ease, went out for what I presumed to be the occasional smoke, signed a few books, chatted with a few people.  He was easy to approach, down to Earth, happy to have someone discussing his story with him. 

Knockemstiff is about a small town and the situations that lurk there . . . so when I was finished with my novel, I wanted to take a chance and see if he would read it, and perhaps like it since it grew from the tiny towns of Southern Illinois.  I asked my publisher to send him an advance copy. 

And just like that night in St. Louis, he was gracious enough to give me the time of day.  More than that, even.  He read my book and sent the following praise:

“Fred Venturini is an awesomely talented writer, and he proves it on every page of The Samaritan.  Stretching artfully from the shabbiness of life in a small Illinois town to the glitter and greed of Hollywood, this first novel about a shy, emotionally damaged loser with a bizarre but coveted ability to regenerate his vital parts is one of the most engaging and ultimately satisfying that I've had the pleasure to read in a long time.”

Incredibly humbling, coming from a writer I respect a great deal.  And I think if you take the time to read Knockemstiff, you'll respect him a great deal as well, and be lights out entertained in the process.

So for you writerly folks who may be reading this, the take-home is to attend those readings, be open to discovering the next good book, and network.  I recall running an extremely high fever that day . . . and if I would not have gone, I would never have discovered Donald Ray Pollock or his amazing book.

Hey, I Wrote a Book

You are probably asking yourself why my blogs are so infrequent.  Well, I am continuing my education in graduate school, I'm working an adult-caliber job, I'm living out of boxes as we prepare to move, I'm battling a 4 week bout of bronchitis, and I have been revising the novel I'm about to plug.

It's called "The Samaritan" and it's coming out in February.  I'm going to be posting more in the coming weeks now that I can see some light at the end of the tunnel.  If you haven't seen it already, here are the covers.  The hands are hardcover, the heart is the softcover.  Time for your eyes to bulge with jealousy!  Behold!  And maybe comment, or as most of you do, text me because you're afraid of posting as "anonymous."

You Can't Take It With You

I haven't blogged in a while because I've been bunkered down, writing my book, reading a lot of stuff, and I knew weeks ago I wanted to post something that shares just a little bit of what I've learned in reading three books on the subject of organ donation.  

I have learned that our country's organ donation system is based on altruism, and altruism isn't working.  Supply is inadequate.  In America, the organ donation system has no science to it, at least in the initial stages.  In fact, the organ donation system has been called a complex lottery system.  

I'm not going to share the volume of information contained in the books (but I will highly recommend Black Markets by Michele Goodwin).  But the fact remains that altruism could work . . . if more people were altruistic.  We'd have a bigger supply.  Donating would be the rule, not the exception.  But donations per the percentage of population continue to dwindle.  Some folks feel that medical staffers would let them die if they were donors.  Others don't like the thought of themselves or a family member being cut up after they are dead.  Some people have religious conflicts, even though every single major religion endorses organ donation.  

Simply put, we need to get this trend going in the opposite direction.  Consider the regression of the cadaver supply . . . 

We consider doctors to be infallible.  One mistake creates a "bad doctor" and a lawsuit.  But these men and women were not born with a scalpel in their hand.  They require what anyone does to be proficient at their work, and that's practice.  Surgeons have fewer cadavers today than we had available decades ago.  In fact, there is a cadaver shortage.  Less opportunities to practice.  Why is this?  Fewer people are donating their bodies for such use, and fewer families are open to this possibility.

Organs are trending the same way.  The altruistic process leaves thousands of people waiting for vital organs, an agonizing wait that is full of uncertainty, a wait that is hit or miss.  Even worse is the tragedy of knowing the technology exists to save them, if only there were enough donors out there.

The lack of altruism creates grave robbing (yes, it still happens).  It has built a black market for organs.  It has allowed the rich to exploit the poor in this country and others.  Consider that a man paid 100k for a "kidney vacation" in another country, and a poor villager got 5k for giving up his kidney (coincidentally, he was then robbed of the 5k). Altruism can work, but everyone has to be better at it, or we're going to keep wondering why the waiting lists are so big, why medical schools don't have the tools they need, and also, we have to wonder just where the tissue banks are getting their goods.  Here's a hint--it's not all legitimate tissue.  In fact, there have been cases of stolen, tainted tissue getting into patients due to corrupt tissue banks who steal or buy their supply.    

Organ and tissue donation is a personal decision, but have you considered this decision lately?  What's your driver's license say?  Have you registered with your state's donor registry?  Have you talked to your family?  

As for me, I'm a donor.  Give me the buffalo treatment . . . leave nothing wasted.  If I pass away, scatter every viable part of me to families that could be restored.  Or let a doctor become brilliant with me serving as the practice field.  

Let my funeral be a mourning of my spirit and memory, not the body I no longer need.