This Month’s Big Publishing Reveal Is…

Today’s the 24th, and I have nothing to publish.

For the last seven months, I’ve announced the publishing of a book every time the 24th rolled around. I picked that number specifically because, once upon a time in a magical land called Moonachie, New Jersey, I was born one freezing February 24th.

So I thought it’d be kinda fun to run with it.

In January, I published Maiden America. In February, I debuted my Faerietales series with Not So Human, followed by To Err Is Faerie in March and Up in the Air in April.

Next was my Dirty Politics series. The Politician’s Pawn came out in May, Moves and Countermoves in June, and Amateurs Play Elsewhere was what I debuted for July.

Now it’s August. August 24th. And I’ve got nothing.

I’m not upset. All good runs have to end, and I’m having a blast editing the recently completed manuscript for Faerietales #4, even if I still have no clue what to call it. I’m also researching the siege of Yorktown for Maiden America #2, which does have a name: Designing America.

Both are fascinating and fulfilling, and I can’t wait to get them to the point where they’re publishable. Though that won’t be until next year, I’m sure.

That gives me another however many months’ worth of 24ths where I have no big announcements to make and nothing amazing to share. And considering that I don’t have another seven books lying around, I suppose I’ll never experience that particular kind of run again.

Oh well. Moving on.

I’m sure there are plenty more paths out there to explore!

Nobody Would Waterboard Me

Sooo… for one of my stories – totally not “Moves and Countermoves” – I have a scene where two of my characters get waterboarded.

To a large degree, I had already unwittingly done my research on the subject. I mean, I’d read all those reports about Guantanamo Bay. I’d watched G.I. Jane. Really, I was practically an expert.

But practically isn’t the same thing as actually, and I wanted to actually know what I was writing about. So I asked a friend of mine to waterboard me.

And she said no.

In my mind, that was really rude and hurtful. When I expressed my disappointment to certain family members about this, instead of agreeing that it was such a shame she couldn’t be more considerate, they freaked out on me.

I explained my completely sound rationale: that it would be a controlled environment, that trained CIA operatives only lasted an average of 14 seconds and so I’d probably last all of three, and that there was absolutely no chance of me drowning or dying in the process. Yet they still said I was crazy.

I swear, some people are so narrow-minded. They just don’t understand what you have to do sometimes to accomplish true art.

With those hindrances firmly set, I had to do my research the old-fashioned way: on YouTube, which admittedly had some fascinating and ultimately useful information. One conservative talk-show host I’d never heard of before lasted five seconds and said it was without a doubt torture.

Which makes sense. If it looks like torture and feels like torture, it probably is torture. Even if it doesn’t leave a mark. And it’s kinda condescending to say otherwise.

Now whether it’s appropriate to use on hardened terrorists to save thousands of innocent lives? I’ll leave that discussion for a different time and a different blog.

What I will say is that, after doing all my research on the subject, I get very annoyed when  Hollywood tries to portray it (including on Burn Notice and The Blacklist, two shows I normally love).

From everything I’ve seen? You don’t undergo that and then hop off the torture table ready to take on the world again.

Though, of course, I wouldn’t know for sure. Because nobody would waterboard me.

What Doesn’t Kill You Can Go in Your Novel

They say “it takes all kinds” to make the world turn, but let’s face it: That motion could be a whole lot smoother without certain people around.

Like, I don’t know…

·         That person who doesn’t like you for no good reason, as far as you can tell

·         The boss who doesn’t give you a raise or bonus two years in a row without explanation

·         Your ex who really was a nice person but lacked the spine to be honest with himself so that he vacillated about the relationship every other day until you’re forced to break up with him on New Year’s Eve, ensuring an utterly miserable evening.

Not that I have anyone in particular in mind, of course…

Except that I do. Obviously. And yeah, I don’t care for the individuals described in bullet points one and two. As for the third example, well, I sincerely wish him the best despite how he could have saved us both a lot of trouble way back when by making up his mind one way or the other.

Life is filled with such annoyances. And there’s often nothing much to be done about them.

Unless, of course, you’re a writer.

One of the many beauties of writing stories is that you can take the kind of revenge on reality-inspired characters that you could never take in real life. Not to say I go around knee-capping my supervisors or burning down other antagonists’ houses with them in it. I could if I wanted to, but that’s probably going a bit too far. I don’t dislike them THAT much.

However, I have given one little letch I used to work with debilitating stomach cramps. Twice. That’s in “Maiden America.” I don’t regret doling out that batch of poison one bit.

And I portray politicians from both parties as conniving, arrogant lawbreakers with delusions of godhood in my upcoming Dirty Politics series. That round of venting felt pretty good too.

But above and beyond the emotional enjoyment of sticking it to the man or woman or group of people driving me crazy, I can use that real-world experience with negative factors to make my fiction more believable and ultimately entertaining and/or compelling.

Hence the reason why I wrote my dedication to “Maiden America” the way that I did:

This book goes out to the amazing individuals who listened to me 
blather on and on and on (and on) about how cool all my historical 
research on Princeton circa 1776 was. You know who you are!

And also to some particularly obnoxious people of my 
acquaintance, who made for amazingly easy models of irritating 
British officers. I could have done it without you guys, but it 
wouldn’t have been nearly so much fun.