Write. Now.
Is it preorder or pre-order?
Anyway, pre(-)orders are a boon to writers. They stack up and show as sales on the release date. If you’ve read previous books in these serieses (English is hard), or just have an abiding interest in Aussie-based, fast-paced crime fiction, check them out.
Fast Track can be preordered now at: Amazon | Apple | Kobo | Barnes&Noble
Do Not Pass Go can be preordered at: Amazon | Apple | Kobo | Barnes&Noble
Fast Track is Mac Durridge’s latest case.
On the NSW Central Coast, Mac Durridge has been asked by Sophie, his on-again, currently off-again girlfriend, to look into the disappearance of her friend, Central Coast Network News reporter Linda Carmody.
Linda has been on extended paid leave from CCNN while she runs down a news story. She regularly disappears for weeks at a time, investigating this story. This time, though, she missed a mutual friend’s hen party with no excuse. Very out of character.
As an author, I was faced with a bit of a problem. I enjoyed writing two series featuring two different P.I.s: Mac Durridge, an ex-NSW cop now flogging his wares as a PI in a small coastal town, and Nick Harding, an ex-AFP Financial Crimes investigator who is now flogging his wares as a PI in a much larger coastal town (Sydney).
I didn’t know which one to work on next.
I split the baby and decided to write both. One huge crime spanning the state. Each PI gets pulled into the case independently. In fact, the first half of each book has no reference to the other PI at all. They connect at the halfway point, and by the third act, they’re quasi-partners.
All of the regular characters from past books are there, and a couple of new ones are added.
Like young Josh Cole, a thirteen-year-old, who hires Mac to find his stolen coin collection. A seemingly trivial case to open the story, yet the conclusion pivots on the information he gains helping the young lad.
Cynthia Tanner and Joe Mason are state and federal employees, respectively, working hard on the development of Australia’s first high-speed rail network.
If you’re interested in becoming an ARC reviewer, fill in this form. Otherwise, it’ll be available at all good and evil bookstores on 18 July.
You can also pre-order now at Amazon | Apple | Kobo | Barnes&Noble
The dumbest thing you can do as a writer is edit your own work. And yes, I do it too, primarily for financial reasons. I have beta readers who catch a lot of things, but not everything. That’s not possible. Good editors are not cheap. And outside of traditional publishing, how do you know if the person editing is any good?
Back to the “Why Indie” post, this is tantamount to shooting myself in the foot. If I put out something with poor quality, it hurts me and every other indie author trying to gain credibility. Having an editor should ensure higher-quality work, right?
After 15 years, I’ve come up with a few tips on becoming your own editor.
First, I highly recommend buying this book. It’s an excellent guide (if you follow it).
From the blurb: Chapters on dialogue, exposition, point of view, interior monologue, and other techniques take you through the same processes an expert editor would go through to perfect your manuscript. Each point is illustrated with examples, many drawn from the hundreds of books Browne and King have edited.
Second, take your time. It’s never finished when you think it’s finished. Allocate more calendar time editing than you’ve spent writing your first draft. Make it as much, if not more, of your job as drafting the story.
Find plot holes. After finishing your first draft, set it aside for a month. Try to forget it as much as you can. Then, sit down and read through your story with fresh eyes. Keep a notepad beside you (or add comments to your document) and note each time you’re pulled out of the story for whatever reason.
Some plot holes or discontinuities can be resolved simply with an added sentence. Others may require a section to be rewritten. Sometimes, an unresolved setup in Act One must be addressed in Act Three. Occasionally, it might need to be deleted if it adds nothing to the story.
That’s okay. That’s what editing is.
Fix your punctuation. Not too many commas, not too few. Proper punctuation in dialogue.
Don’t trust spell check. An incorrect work in a sentence that is still a legitimate word won’t be flagged. See what I did there? This is less of a problem now since most spellchecking is contextual. But a decade ago? Big minefield.
My final step is to have the story read aloud to me while I read along. I edit in Word (first draft in Scrivener), and in Word, there’s a feature called ‘Read Aloud‘ in the Review menu.
Listening to your story will catch awkward word choices, missed typos, repeated words and more.
And when you’ve finished with the process, head back to the beginning and do it again.
And again.
You want people to enjoy the story, right? Don’t let them get hung up on the non-story parts.
Your thoughts?
Why, indeed?
And not ‘self-published’, please. Independently published.
First and foremost, not a huge fan of gatekeeping of any kind. I realise that a lack of gatekeeping can equate to a lack of quality control, but when we’re talking about books, poor quality won’t result in a collapsed bridge or a sunken ship.
The market will take care of the crap. Sometimes.
It will always take care of the technical crap—the misspellings, poor grammar, shitty covers—but not always take care of writing crap—poor story structure, weak character arcs, gaping plot holes. Sometimes, inexplicably, those poorly written books become “best sellers” and “money-making movies” and “competitive drinking amongst not-so-lucky other writers”.
Anywho.
The second reason is the timeframes involved. A writer friend, part of a writers’ group I was once a member of, announced that she had signed with a small publisher. Congratulations were justifiably shared.
I don’t remember the exact timeline, but it was in the order of signing the publishing contract in January and the book would be on the shelves by the FOLLOWING MARCH. Fifteen months later.
And she’d have to arrange and bear the cost of most of the marketing.
With indie publishing, when the book is ready, the book is ready. The biggest challenge (after writing the book, and editing the book, and editing the book again) is knowing what “ready” looks like. Traditional publishing offers a layer of professional editors. They aren’t free. Their cost is factored in when your royalties are calculated. But it does buffer the author against editing mistakes. It doesn’t guarantee no mistakes, but it provides a scapegoat for the poor author.
The reality of writing is that unless you’re a top-tier author, the grunt work is on the author’s lap. So you may as well do it on your terms.
Back to the gatekeeping aspect for a closer.
Gatekeeping adds technical quality — most of the time. I read a traditionally published book where a main character’s age changed from something like 53 to 47 over two paragraphs. In another book, the main character left his rifle at the back door of a house he was entering, only to have it in his possession on the next page when he needed it.
Nobody’s perfect.
So, it’s a trade-off for me. In a couple of weeks, I’ll post about how I self-edit the shit out of my stories to lighten that weight of preconceived poor quality just a little bit for the rest of you indie authors.
I’ve already written four Nick Harding case files, but for those who haven’t read them yet, an introduction is in order in advance of the fifth, coming in July (subscribe, top right of this page, to get updates).
I wanted to veer away from the whiskey-soaked, ex-beat cop trope for my next PI. And I happened to be working (in the job that put the good food on the table) in risk management and governance when I was in the ‘what am I going to write about now’ phase.
Nick Harding is a former Australian Federal Police officer based in Sydney who led investigations into money laundering and other financial crimes. Until the regularity of it all bored his socks off. There are only so many ways to clean money. Once you knew what they were, it came down to uncovering the electronic paper trail. Or, more often than not, trails.
Boring.
AUSTRAC had the really fun work, and he couldn’t get a nose in with them.
So Nick split off on his own and set up a small (it couldn’t be any smaller) firm to help companies guard against internal financial crime. It seemed like a safe, not at all dangerous, way to make a buck.
I mean, if you don’t include the beatings, abductions, threats to friends and family and trashed cars and apartments.
Funnily enough, he’s found the danger more appealing. He now has tacit proof that his fights bring results. He sees the baddies getting cuffed. He even has, on occasion, meted out the punishment himself. A darker side of himself he didn’t know he had.
E-books can be found on all good and evil purveyors of digital stuff.
Paperbacks (including Large Print) are on
Barnes&Noble: Batteries Not Included | Broken | Dead Tomorrow | Under the Shadows and
bookshop.org: Batteries Not Included | Broken | Dead Tomorrow | Under the Shadows
Subscribe to be notified when the next in the series, Do Not Pass Go (18 July) is available for pre-order
I’ve drafted this post too many times. It’s very straightforward: There is no place for AI in creating art.
I received an email from the South American River ™ this morning informing me (and they seemed proud of the fact) that I had been “…invited to participate in KDP’s beta for audiobooks.” ALL of my books were eligible.
I took one of them through the steps to the point where I could “edit” the audio. First, the voices had no Australian option. Strike one. Second, it pronounced some slang incorrectly. Strike two (though you could alter pronunciation with a very clunky interface). Finally, IT WAS A VIRTUAL PERSON. Strike three.
Shouldn’t have even stepped up to the plate.
I have been aching to release my books as audiobooks. There’s a huge market for them. It’s been impossible to do it in an even remotely financially viable way from Australia, so, on the face of it, this seems like a good alternative.
Except it’s not worth it.
There was a fourth strike, and apologies in advance for the language. (Well, warning in advance. Not apologies.)
In the first chapter, bad guy says other character he had kidnapped to “get in the fucking tub”. (Don’t worry. Bad guy gets apprehended a paragraph later.)
The virtual voice “said” with an inflection that sounded like “get in the tub we use for fornication” as opposed to the way all of us humans would say it. And that wasn’t something I could edit/correct.
AI, as a tool, has some business benefits. It can point someone in the general direction of knowledge. For example, if I need to know what legislative criteria I’d have to follow if I were a telecommunications company, it can provide a list. Though I’d highly recommend you verify it.
When it comes to creating art, it’s A) cheating, B) stealing other people’s work to derive an output and C) pretty poor quality. ‘C’ will slowly go away, and the quality will improve.
A and B are reasons why you still shouldn’t use it.
I will NEVER use AI to write a book, or accept cover art that is AI-created. Solemn word.
Back in, I don’t know when, while I was living on the Central Coast of NSW, we took the scenic route home along the beach through Budgewoi, and I spotted a cheap sign advertising “PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR” in white letters on black paint, with a mobile number listed below it.
I don’t remember which town. If I could find the place again, I’d take a picture of that sign and use it as a cover. Maybe all my covers for this series of books.
But I wondered—what the hell would a PI do for work in a small town of 3,000? Definitely nothing undercover. After a short time, he’d know all the town’s secrets, as well as those of the surrounding towns.
And thus was born Malcolm Durridge, a former NSW Police Senior Sergeant who left the force under mysterious circumstances. (Perhaps something for a future book. Perhaps.) He now operates a one-man PI shop above a TAB betting establishment in a small, fake town on Tuggerah Lake.
Mac’s cases vary from bank fraud and international conspiracies to a 13-year-old kid paying him $25 to find his stolen coin collection.
He got an old attorney friend whose help he frequently needs, an ex-wife (who is well on her way to becoming a doctor) and Barry (Baz), an indeterminately aged man who chooses to live homeless. Baz serves as his invisible (to the rest of society) source, keeping an eye on things when things need an eye or two.
E-books can be found on Amazon here, with more e-retailers coming soon.
Paperbacks (including Large Print) are on Barnes & Noble: Mac D | A Step Too Far | Hunter/Prey and other good and evil bookstores.
Subscribe (at the top right of this page) to be notified when the next in the series, Fast Track (18 July), is available for pre-order.
This isn’t how I think everybody should write a synopsis. It’s how *I* write one.
The requested word length will inform how much detail is required, but the structure doesn’t change.
A story naturally breaks into four parts:
When a synopsis is requested, I write four paragraphs, mirroring the above list, with as much detail as the allowed word count permits. (I allocate 1/4 of the allowed word count to each paragraph). All major characters are introduced in the first paragraph. Major plot points happen at the end of the first paragraph, the middle and end of paragraphs two and three and at the beginning and end (if there’s a twist, and there should always be a twist) of paragraph four.
The synopsis doesn’t hide key parts of the story. It’s meant to let the reader know that 1) the story is completed (or at least thought through completely) and 2) you, the writer, know how to structure a story.
Now go forth and synopsis.
Okay. I hate what Bezos does to his workers, hate how he co-opted the NY Times, and can’t stand the guy as much as any other sane person. But there’s a way we can make him lose money while you read books.
This works only if you’re a heavy reader. I promise it will remove all of your justifiable guilt about giving him money.
I’ll use an Australian example because it’s Australian numbers I know
Kindle Unlimited costs $13.99 AUD
For every page you read with Kindle Unlimited, I get around 1/3 of a penny.
If you do the math, once you’ve exceeded 4200 Kindle pages in a month, Amazon is paying the author(s) more money than you’re paying Amazon.
That’s 10 and a half books. I’ve seen the prodigious output (input?) from some of you readers. That’s barely more than a week’s worth of reading.
I think nine of my books are on Kindle Unlimited. And if you’re willing to play this “kill them by a thousand cuts” game, there are over 90,000 ebooks on Amazon enrolled in Kindle Unlimited.
Fire at will.
Read a good book or a dozen.
After 5 a.m. mornings for the past month, getting a couple of hours of writing in before the bill-paying job starts, I’ve completed the first drafts of both Mac D’s “Fast Track” and Nick Harding’s “Do Not Pass Go”.
Now, these are first drafts. Like all first drafts–everyone’s first drafts–they are shit. But that’s okay. They’ll sit for a month while I work setting up promotional activities, and then I’ll polish those turds until they gleam.
Both Private Investigators are working on the same case. They don’t know it at first, but near the mid-point, their paths cross, and by the third act, they are working together.
Both stories are different, from different POVs and with different methodologies. Writing the same scenes from different POVs, and scenes specific to one detective over the other was a challenge and a blast.
If you want to catch up with their previous (non-interlocking) cases, you can find Mac Durridge’s here, and Nick Harding’s here.
Stay tuned at this site for updates. If you’re interested in being an ARC reader in May, drop me a note.
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