And that’s a wrap—MX Publishing’s Kickstarter for A Man Named Baskerville closed earlier today with 81 backers pledging £1,842 (USD$2,241) toward the upcoming Special Edition hardback.
Learn more about A Man Named Baskerville on my web site. I should have more information soon on the hardback edition, as well as an upcoming audiobook.
Thanks, everyone! Here’s to a great 2025.
With MX Publishing producing a special hardcover edition of A Man Named Baskerville, they launched a Kickstarter to get the word out and defray costs. The Kickstarter has done quite well so far, raising nearly $1,700 in two weeks!
There’s still time to join in, and plenty of donor rewards remain available. If you donate before the deadline, you can claim:
You may donate at any level. Even if you don’t wish to donate, please consider sharing this Kickstarter with your friends and followers on social media.
Thanks for reading, and here’s to a great 2025.
As mentioned in my last post, MX Publishing is holding a Kickstarter fundraiser to spread the word of the publication of a special hardcover edition of A Man Named Baskerville as well as a forthcoming audiobook.
Well, the Kickstarter has started, and I’m asking for your help. There are some great donor rewards for your generous contribution:
You may donate at any level. Even if you don’t wish to donate, please consider sharing this Kickstarter with your friends and followers on social media.
(Please note this money does not go into my pocket—it’s used to defray the cost of production, distribution, and marketing.)
That link, in case you missed it:
I’m pleased to announce that I’ve signed with MX Publishing in London to release two new editions of A Man Named Baskerville, my reinterpretation of the classic Sherlock Holmes mystery.
Some time in early 2025, you should expect to see a new hardcover and audiobook of Baskerville. I’m especially excited about the audiobook, as this will be the first one produced for my novels.
In order to offset publication costs, MX Publishing will be running a Kickstarter. The donor gift tiers are still being decided, but you should expect to see signed copies of paperback and hardcover editions of Baskerville as thank-you gifts, plus perhaps a couple more surprises.
You can sign up to be notified when the Kickstarter launches—just follow this link and add yourself to the “Saved” list.
And watch this space too, as I’ll be announcing more details as they finalize. You can click on the blue “Subscribe” button to receive notifications.
Thank you for following me this year! I hope to have lots more exciting news and new developments in 2025.
Previously: Writer’s block
Next: A unique manifesto
The year that was 2020 will most likely go down as one of the most turbulent years of my life: The COVID-19 pandemic, lock-downs and masking, the murder of George Floyd and the ensuing riots, all leading up to the most contentious presidential election in memory that some still deny was properly tabulated.
In contrast, 2019 had been for me a rather productive year creatively, and I wound up publishing two novels in 2020 back-to-back: Stranger Son in April, followed by In My Memory Locked in June.
That aside, as 2020 trudged onward and the pandemic fevered on, it grew apparent normalcy would not make an appearance any time soon. I began to suffer a low-grade depression, a toothy rat gnawing at the ankles of my mental health. I needed to do something creative to keep a hold on my fragile state.
I made a personal goal of putting out a compact book—my previous two were unusually lengthy for me, with In My Memory Locked clocking in at 120,000 words. I had been binging on streamed movies (and who didn’t that year?) Viewing the masterful The Day of the Jackal motivated me to pick up Frederick Forsythe’s original novel, which I learned was inspired by his tenure as a journalist in Paris reporting on the assassination attempts made on Charles De Gaulle’s life.
I committed myself to write a taut thriller about the pandemic and lock-downs, short and sweet, with as little fat as possible, and saturated with paranoia and claustrophobia. The result was Man in the Middle, published in November 2020 and my most overlooked book. I’m proud of it, though, especially considering the conditions I was working under. I also believe it to be the first novel published expressly about the COVID-19 pandemic—but I cannot prove that.
As for blogging in 2020, I put out a number of short series which garnered some interest. At the start of the year, I did a mini-series on Dungeons & Dragons, including my take on Gary Gygax’s Appendix N, which was his book recommendations he included in the first AD&D Dungeon Master’s Guide. Another series took at look at Hollywood novels, which gave me a chance to write on a few books I’ve been meaning to cover for some time, including The Day of the Locust and They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?
But the post I’m most proud of from 2020 regarded a bit of writing advice I’ve heard on and off for years now in writing groups and at writing conferences: “Use three senses to make a scene come alive.” Invariably, this advice is attributed to Gustave Flaubert.
As far as writing lore goes, this one is rather economical in expression. It’s also not altogether obvious why it’s true. Why three sense, and not four or five, or even two? The resulting blog post was satisfying to write because investigating the origins of this saying led naturally to explaining why it appears to be true.
There appears to be no evidence Flaubert ever made this statement, at least, not in such a direct manner. Rather, the textual evidence is that it originated from Flannery O’Connor, who in turn was summarizing a observation made by her mentor, Caroline Gordon.
Now, I’ve read many of Flannery O’Connor’s short stories—anyone who’s taken a few creative writing classes will eventually read “A Good Man is Hard to Find,” her most anthologized work. I had never read anything by Caroline Gordon, however, so it was fascinating to delve briefly into her work.
It’s a shame Gordon is not more well-read today. It’s probably due to her work not taking the tangents and experiments that other American modernists risked (such as Faulkner and Jean Toomer). She remained a formalist to the end. Her How to Read a Novel is an enlightening book, and while a tad dated, would make fine reading for anyone serious about writing a full-bodied, red-blooded novel.
Mostly, my pride for “Use three senses to make a scene come alive” is that it’s a solid essay: It starts out with an interesting question that leads to more questions, takes a couple of detours and unexpected side-roads on its journey, and ends on a note of successful discovery. It’s about all I can aspire to when I sit down to write.
Previously: An all-too-familiar utopia
Next: Flaubertian three-dimensionalism
From a novel-writing perspective, 2018 and 2019 was a creative interregnum. After publishing Hagar’s Mother in late 2017, I found myself juggling energy between two books. One was the third installment of the Bridge Daughter series, the other a futuristic detective novel where society has essentially become a giant social media simulation. While working on the former, 2018 fizzled away with a fearful lack of progress. As 2019 marched on, a slow panic developed inside me. Would I burn off a second year with nothing to show for it?
I learned a hard lesson: Writer’s block is real. Before this, I’d read articles by well-known writers who either denied it existed, or called it a semi-phony condition covering for laziness. The cure for supposed writer’s block, they explained, was to turn off your Internet, silence your phone, and write.
The early chapters of the Bridge Daughter sequel emerged in fits and spurts. Like a teenager learning how to drive a stick shift, I couldn’t find second gear and launch the story forward. Eventually I admitted that I’d hit something like writer’s block. I recalled what the Coen Brothers did when they were blocked developing Miller’s Crossing: They wrote a movie about writer’s block, Barton Fink.
While I didn’t go that meta, I used the problem to pivot to my science-fiction detective novel. Encouragingly, I was far more productive. It was also a much longer story. As a tightly-wound mystery, it was vital the chronologies of the different characters matched up, as story events were occurring in the background that the detective only learned about later. This required a fair amount of revision to clean up and synchronize.
The pivot did unblock me, and in a big way. During a stay in Tokyo at the end of 2019, I finished the remainder of the third Bridge Daughter book over a six-week sprint. Unlike the grind of the detective novel, Stranger Son spilled forth all at once. It and In My Memory Locked were published in 2020.
The other writing outlet I used over 2019 to break my writer’s block was this blog. It’s no surprise my focus that year would be on the writing process itself. I blogged about keeping a writing notebook on your phone, story revision, story structure, and even on (bad) cover letters. Basically, any problem I faced while writing, I at least attempted to compose a post about it. (Most were never published, trapped forever in my blog software’s Drafts folder.)
So desperate to write anything to keep the blood flowing, I even wrote about writing in cafes. It couldn’t have been more flagrant: Sitting in a cafe, desperate to jump-start the creative engine, I started writing about what I saw around me. What began as a lark grew into a lengthy diatribe on the different cafes I’d written in over two-and-a-half decades, and the varieties of cafe patrons and owners I’ve had to put up with.
The cafe I wrote that post in was near-perfect for my writing habit. Plenty of seating, open late, electrical outlets, free Wi-Fi, good drinks, good food, reasonable prices, a cozy college student vibe—and a mere one block from my apartment. That’s why at the end of the post I didn’t reveal its name. I feared it would be discovered and ruined.
Well, not long after posting, the cafe changed owners. One by one, the wonderful perks disappeared, prices crept upwards, and hours were reduced. By the end of 2019, I was on the hunt for a new cafe.
A few months later, my preference for writing in public spaces would become a very distant problem.
With the dog days of summer upon us, four of my novels are now available on Amazon for the low price of 99¢.
Follow the links below to view sample chapters or purchase:
All are available in the Kindle Unlimited program, meaning KU members may read them for free.
And, remember that Man in the Middle is free if you sign up for my newsletter.
Have a good summer!
