I had expected to be blogging pretty regularly last week, because for the first time in a while I’ve got a number of things going on to talk about. But, as luck would have it, things didn’t quite work out the way I’d expected. First, my Dad went back into the hospital. Two days later, I began sleeping up there, keeping vigil. My mom joined in on Thursday, my sis on Friday.
But on Sunday, he was gone.
Torn to Pieces, my debut novel, was approved by Amazon on Saturday, which makes me feel a little better. Sunday’s an anniversary I didn’t want shared. I’m not quite sure how much of Dad was still hanging around on Friday, but I let him know the book was finally being published. He was the first person I let read it, in a draft very, very close to the one now available for Kindle. Is that important? To me it is. I don’t usually show anyone anything I write until it’s ready for publication, so I’m sure glad I didn’t do that this time around. Dad loved mysteries, and we enjoyed many of the same authors. John Sandford. Michael Connelly. Nelson DeMille, and so on. Usually, my genre is horror, and that really wasn’t Dad’s thing, although he read anything I had published. But mysteries and thrillers… He really liked those, and he compared my effort favorably to several books we both thought highly of. The good thing about that is, Dad didn’t shine me on about my work. If he thought something could be better, he’d tell me. He even made a suggestion about a different plot twist at the end, thinking it’d do better with the masses. We discussed that a lot. I didn’t want to make the change because it’s the kind of twist you expect in mystery novels today. He thought that might be exactly why I should try it. But we decided the book was commercial and mainstream enough, and talked about sequels, other stories, etc.
I’m glad I had time to get that input. It made the novel that much stronger. Next to my film, The Bunker, it was the single biggest project I’d undertaken, creatively. And, he got to see it. Got to see my film on the big screen, in a real movie theatre, on a state of the art projection system with surround sound and all the bells and whistles. Popcorn, even. That he got to enjoy my book and movie ought to be enough to make me happy, but of course, it’s not. He won’t be here for the next one, which hurts. But, if you enjoy mysteries and thrillers as much as Dad and I did/do, perhaps you’ll give the sample chapters a look-see, let me know what you think. I’d love to hear your comments (preferably through Amazon, of course), no matter whether you like the book or not. Remember, I’ve been doing this a long time. I’ve got thick skin. If you pick up a copy? Give it to me straight.
I promise—I’ll let Dad know how the response is when I talk to him.
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Currently listening to: The Gambler by Kenny Rogers