Woke up this morning to find Proseuche sitting squarely in the Top 100 on Amazon for Ghost Fiction.
May not seem like much, but, damn, it was a first for me. I’ll take it!
Kinda cool. :)
Woke up this morning to find Proseuche sitting squarely in the Top 100 on Amazon for Ghost Fiction.
May not seem like much, but, damn, it was a first for me. I’ll take it!
Kinda cool. :)
Still confused about the continuing kerfuffle ‘tween Amazon and Hachette? Even after I put in my own two cents? REALLY?
Hachette can’t come right out and say they want higher book prices (which is the result if they prevail in negotiations and take back control of pricing and/or Amazon’s ability to to discount) so instead we get a narrative of a rapacious corporation versus a plucky guardian of our literary heritage. Authors should adopt a little more skepticism towards what is a concerted PR campaign from a series of vested interest.
It really is worth it to click on over to read the rest of his intelligent, well-informed take on what’s really happening and what’s truly at stake for writers like you and me.
Amazon opened the doors. Instead of hoops, Amazon offered opportunity. Seeing an industry denying undiscovered talent their chance to be heard, Amazon stepped to the plate.
Single mothers in the Midwest found their romance novels becoming bestsellers. Goth kids dressed in black discovered they’re not alone, their zombie books collecting earnest raves from their peers. Retirees who’d put their dreams of Writing on hold so they could pay the bills and raise a family reinvented themselves as novelists with a lifetime of stories to tell.
Head on over. It’s worth the read. :)
Yep, you read that right. The Wounded King, Book One in The Martuk Series, an ongoing collection of Short Fiction based on my award-winning debut novel Martuk … the Holy, will be FREE for one day and one day only, March 27th.
Curious? Here’s an excerpt:
“I eat,” Mother suddenly said.
“The flesh –”
She interrupted me with a nod.
“It’s hungry,” she said, her voice low, the words almost a whisper. “Its stomach desperate for the meat, the muscle, the skin. If I don’t feed It, there’s pain.”
Her hand on her stomach, she continued.
“I am powerless, my son. I don’t want to. I don’t want this. It’s disgusting, it sickens me, it’s something I cannot stop, and it’s destroyed me. The taste, the feel of it in my mouth, the smell on my hands, my fingers –”
She stopped, this brief moment of lucidity gone as quickly as it began.
Closing her eyes, she cocked her head, distracted by something only she could hear. The morning had grown dark, the sun shadowed by a rare cloud.
I looked up to see a clear blue sky.
The shadows grew.
“A God is being born,” she finally said. “The pain, the anguish I endure, is this body dying so that this God, this Dark God, can be born. And I, as that God, will rule.”
The dark grew darker.
I moved closer to her.
“Mother …” I began, “the shadows, they’re moving.”
“Yes, It moves and It is only one shadow.”
It quickened, the dark, as it slid along the ground, vaporous fingers reaching out to my Mother as she spoke.
“It needed the flesh, you see. An eternity caressing all those bodies as they slept, lifetimes licking the skin, the flesh on its tongue only a taste, ephemeral, quickly gone.
“It needed to eat. Finally. Needed more. It needed to feel the life in Its mouth. It needed to tear the skin and rip the muscle and gnaw the bone. Experience being alive, experience living, all those deaths feeding It.
“And now It will live through me, with me, as me.”
The shadow grew, an immense cloud around us, the dust lifting from the ground to churn in the black, the warmth of day now the moist, steamy heat of something uncontrollable, unknowable, and wrong.
“Mother, It will eat you.”
She no longer heard me, the silent song of these shadows obsessing her.
I grabbed her hand.
“Please …” I began as the Darkness lifted me.
A Conversation with Syndra K Shaw (part two)
We continue to chat, Syndra and I. We’ve both popped open a yogurt — she in Paris, me in the States — and, at one point, I could clearly hear the telltale glug glug glug of her beloved wine being poured followed by her ubiquitous small sigh after her first sip.
But make no mistake: Miss Shaw is anything but a lush. Like most of the French, that one glass of wine will be coddled and cradled and sniffed and sipped over the course of an hour or more.
I also notice she’s loosened up. Has apparently forgotten she’s being taped and this will be transcribed. I’m getting more of her and less of her natural reticence and shyness.
Welcome to Part Two –
Jonathan: So, without giving too much away (for those who’ve yet to read it), tell me about writing the final chapters of Mikalo’s Flame.
Syndra: Oh my goodness, I was a mess. Seriously, I had to stop several times and take really big deep breaths to calm myself down. And I was crying so hard I just gave up wiping the tears away, you know?
I know. You called me and sounded like you were really losing it.
I was! I’ve never had a reaction like that.
Why is that? I mean, why now? With those chapters?
I think it’s because I so totally identify with Mikalo and Ronan and what was happening was so immense that I felt everything they were feeling.
But that’s a good thing, isn’t it?
I guess so. I’m just happy the house cleaner had left for the day or she would’ve thought I was nuts.
She already thinks your nuts, what with you asking her to pick up “penis” for you at the grocery store.
(laughs) She knows I meant peanuts! She still teases me about that, asking if I want the jumbos.
Well, do you?
Hey, you’re out of those!
What I loved about the ending of Mikalo’s Flame was how you took something so simple, in this case, making an omelette, and completely turned it into something so unforgettable. Almost magical.
Thank you. What’s funny about that is that I’m not quite sure I intended for the ending to play out the way it did. Or for that to necessarily happen. In fact, I know I didn’t.
Which is where having a map is good –
But it’s even better when you let it guide you instead of letting it tell you what to write.
Exactly. I knew what the ending was. What I didn’t know was, just by listening to those two and trusting them when they took me off into something different, something I didn’t plan, what I didn’t know was how we’d get to that ending.
And Ronan’s inability to speak?
I didn’t plan that either. But she just couldn’t say it!
(Syndra sighs dramatically)
I’m writing that you sighed dramatically.
Oh you –
Well, you did!
A couple of reasons. First, she’s really uncomfortable with change. She’s grown so used to things being just so, you know? And the introduction of Mikalo and her love for him has really been enough. But now this? It’s a lot to take on all at once. Secondly, if she had opened her mouth, the floodgates would have opened. She’d have been a crying, hysterical, ridiculous mess. And she just wanted to keep it together. She just wanted to savor the moment and not get too lost in the emotion.
But would have Mikalo minded her crying?
Of course not. But she, I don’t know, she just didn’t want to ruin, if that’s the word, she just didn’t want to ruin the moment by going on some huge ugly cry fit.
Yeah, ugly cry. It isn’t pretty.
And that’s where we are at the end of Mikalo’s Flame.
A crying mess.
Can you talk about Mikalo’s Fate?
Um, yes. Give me an exclusive, here.
As if you’re Barbra Walters or something.
We’ve established I’m not. So … ?
As it stands now, Mikalo and Ronan are off to Greece to meet his family. So we’ll get our first look at Mikalo’s brother Silvestro and Silvestro’s wife Caugina. We’ll met Mikalo’s lifelong friend Damen and his beloved Nonna, his elderly grandmother. The Byzans will be there as well.
So far, so good.
I do think Ronan will end up in Paris at one point.
Maybe not. But her experience there leads to what I hope will be a beautiful moment later with Mikalo in Greece. And Radek Byzan, Mara’s father, reappears in a very important way as well.
I do like how you bring back characters from earlier books.
I just fall in love with them and want to spend more time with them. And he is someone I really adore.
She’s there, but I’m not sure she’s as obnoxious as she had been. She’s starting to crack a little bit and her life is becoming a bit, I don’t know, out of control, I guess.
So no bitch in Mikalo’s Fate?
Um, there is Caugina. And she could give seminars on how to be a nasty piece of work.
No, there’ll definitely be a bitch in this book. They’re too much fun to write! And Abbie and Marcus aren’t done yet.
No, I’m not. I mean, it might change. But so far they have a place in the next book.
Well, except for Caugina and Abbie and Marcus, so far it sounds like a very “up” book.
But you’re assuming they actually walk down the aisle.
Who? Mikalo and Ronan?
Of course they walk down the aisle.
I don’t know –
What? Oh, that’s just mean.
I’m not saying they don’t — and I’m pretty sure they do –, but life has a habit of throwing curve balls and sometimes things change.
And the curve ball here would be?
That’s something I’m not saying yet. But it’s a huge one and completely derails everything, everything, they’ve planned. But I promise, I PROMISE, that Mikalo’s Fate will have a wonderful ending. I can’t write a book that doesn’t.
Okay, I can’t say I’m a huge fan of your genre –
I know –
But having read the first two books, if Mikalo and Ronan don’t get married I will personally come to Paris to bitch slap you.
Come to Paris anyway. She misses you.
I’m not joking here.
Neither am I.
What’s the one thing that you don’t like about writing?
Yeah, why not? It’s not all perfect, is it?
No, it’s not. I really find it rude when people return books. Unless it’s horrible formatting –
Which yours aren’t –
Right. I’m too obsessed to have them go out with mistakes. Or if they don’t like the writing –
But there’s a sample to read beforehand –
Exactly. If it isn’t one of those two things, I just find it rude to buy a book, read it quickly, and then return it quickly just to save a small amount of money. I could never do that.
And you spoke with Amazon about this.
Yes, but she didn’t care.
Did you make her cry?
I wish. (laughs)
Has this interview made any sense?
I hope so. It’s been a lot of fun.
I’m curious about something.
Whenever you say that, either you’re going to ask a tough question or you’re going to say something horribly inappropriate.
I was just wondering if you ever dream of being a bestselling author.
Really. I have absolutely no control over something like that. My goal is to write a good book. Something people look forward to and get excited about reading and race through in one day and then want to read again. That is what I can control. Whether or not people buy it or, in that case, a lot of people buy it and I end up with a high ranking on Amazon or something, well, that’s just something I have nothing to do with. It’s a waste of energy. I focus on what I can: writing as good a book as I can. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I don’t. And if ONE person buys it, I get excited.
That’s true! When you sold your first copy of Mikalo’s Grace you called me in tears.
I know. Silly of me, but it was so touching to think someone actually spent their money on a book I wrote. I still celebrate each sale. I think I always will. And when people on Facebook write to tell me how much they like what I write, I just love that. I don’t think they realize how hard this is and how much work goes into it and how greatly we appreciate knowing that, at least with someone, our words are making some kind of mark. Are being enjoyed and savored and read again and again. There aren’t enough words to thank these people, those who read my books. There really aren’t.
Have I told you I adore you, my friend?
And I you.
We have to do this again.
Yes. I love these private chats.
Is that another dig at the lack of visitors to my blog.
Mais je t’aime toujours et pour toujours (But I love you always and forever)
Moi aussi, mon cour. (Me too, my dear)
So, there you have it. A funny, sometimes confusing, utterly enchanting conversation with a woman I am completely in love with.
If you haven’t already, go NOW and get her new book, Mikalo’s Flame.
A Conversation with Syndra K Shaw
(note: due to the fact that we talked a long time, I’m breaking our chat into two parts. This is Part One with Part Two following tomorrow)
Phone in hand, I press 2, listening to the brief sing-song of beeps as the number in Paris is dialed. Three small rings later — it’s always three rings –, Syndra answers with a very polite “oui?”. The accent is pleasingly French, the voice both warm and inviting, a slight sense of flirtation teasing the ends of her sentences as if she’s going to burst into a fit of giggles at any moment.
Sitting here much too far away in the States, I can easily imagine this chic writer of e-roms (erotic romances) in her new apartment near La Parc Monceau at her very clean, very shiny desk, leaning back in her red leather swivel chair, a scarf wrapped around her shoulders, her eyes out the window to the park across the street, phone in one hand, orphaned earring in the other, a slight smile on her lips as she patiently listens to me blather on in what is surely an awkward combination of French and English.
I’ve known Syndra for years — we’ve agreed that it’s ten years though I insist it’s closer to twelve — and consider her one of my dearest friends. Family, even, although her French sensibility would scoff at such an overt display of American affection. Still, I’m sticking by my guns. I consider her family. I cannot imagine life without Syndra.
When I published my first book, Martuk … the Holy, in 2012, she was the first to call and congratulate me, the first to send flowers and chocolate, and the first to read it, sending me a lovely, very detailed private review that was both immensely supportive and brutally honest. “I would not be your love,” she explained, “if I just told you how wonderful it was. And it was. But there must be something, even if it is a small thing, to criticize and make better.”
And she was right. As always.
So I was understandably overjoyed when she turned to me several months later and asked my opinion. She had an idea for a story. Perhaps even a book. Maybe a few. A New York lawyer named Ronan Grace (love it!) falling in love with a Greek billionaire named Mikalo Delis (love it even more!). She shared with me the vision she had, one she thought could span several books and a whole group of secondary characters.
As she talked, I heard something I’d never heard before. Her voice quavered, she spoke quickly, she’d run out of breath as she talked about her Ronan and her Mikalo and the two of them together and the struggles they faced and the love they felt and the journey they’d take. I could feel this story, these characters, in her voice, living in her, and I knew without a doubt this was something she had to write.
And I said so.
She worried it’d be horrible. Then let it be, I said. But at least write it, let it live, let it breathe, let it have a life of its own.
She was afraid no one would care or would read it or would make fun of it. Then fuck ‘em, I shot back. Write it for you. Let that be enough.
And, after a few more weeks of needling her, she finally sat down and said “Okay, today is the day. I’m letting Mikalo live”.
With that, came her first book, Mikalo’s Grace.
Now, several months later with the release of the sequel, Mikalo’s Flame, she’s finally relented to my pestering and agreed to a phone interview I’d record and then transcribe. She’d take a quick look and approve, and I’d then put it up on my blog that very few people see anyway.
The consistent, persistent lack of eyes was what finally got her to agree, I think.
That said, here’s what we ended up with (minus the chit chat at the beginning) …
Jonathan: Tell me about Mikalo’s Flame.
Syndra: I think it’s a stronger book than the first –
Mikalo’s Grace –
Yes. I think I found my rhythm a little more and integrated a bit more of a drama-driven narrative this time. I was also a bit more confident and a little less scared.
You know, I liked Mikalo’s Grace –
Of course I did. I told you that, like, seven billion times –
But I also thought it needed more, I don’t know, drama or something.
Oh, yes. You did say that.
Yep. And I think you really got it with Mikalo’s Flame.
Thank you. Maybe you’re right. I think you are.
Let’s just say I’m right, okay? Was that a goal of yours? To add more drama or something to the second book?
No, not necessarily. I want each book to be better than the last — the thought of my writing staying the same book after book frightens me –
It should. Nothing worse than writers who write the same way all the time.
Yes, it makes sense to force yourself to grow. Even if you stumble, at least you’re trying to be better, you know? But with Mikalo’s Flame I really was just following the map I have laid out and what happens in the first book was what I had planned to happen in the first book and what happens in the second book was what my map says was going to happen in the second book. Does that make sense?
Oh you –
No, no, I get what you’re saying.
Well, you should because you’re the one who taught me how to chapter map, or whatever you call it.
That’s just because I’m always forgetting my good ideas and need a reminder.
This is because you’re old.
Shut up. I am not. You’re older.
Back to Mikalo’s Flame, we have to talk about Mara Byzan.
Oh, The Byzan. I actually love her.
You actually know her.
(laughs) No comment.
But she is based on someone you know and see, like, all the time, right?
It’s not like anyone’s going to see this blog.
You have a point. Okay, Mara is inspired by someone I know, but the character in the book is a bit more over-the-top than –
Than the real person.
Who you know too, by the way. And you know what she’s like and you know how loud she is and you know how long her fingernails are.
Yeah, she’s a scratcher. Okay, no comment. Moving on, how do you write? Tell me about your process.
Okay, I listen to music like you taught me and I sit either on the couch with my computer on my lap or at my desk. And there is always a glass of wine and a glass of water.
What kind of wine.
White in the afternoon, red in the evening. Of course.
And you just sit and type and write your book?
No, I sit and look at the keys and the book magically writes itself.
Is that your way of telling me I just asked a stupid question.
How many No Comments do I have left?
Two. You have two No Comments left.
Then No comment.
I’ve lost control of this interview.
Well, you’re no Barbra Walters, that’s for sure.
Damn! Kitty’s got claws.
(Syndra snorts with laughter)
I’m writing that you snorted, just so you know.
Now, French is your langue de naissance — (tr: birth language)
Oh, very nicely said.
Merci. Do you write in French and then translate into English?
Oh my goodness no. I write in English because that is where the market is. And in France, self-publishing a book is looked down on. So I won’t even bother going that route. I’m quite happy writing, as best I can, in English and puis parler de français dans ma vie tous les jours. (tr: … then speak French in my life every day)
Do you find a difference between your French sensibilities and your American friends?
Absolutely! Americans are talkers. They share their lives, their love, their feelings. They embrace you immediately with open arms and, like that, you are their friend. We are much more reserved in France.
That’s true. It was a huge deal when you first invited me to your apartment.
I know. One’s home is for one’s family. And in the States, one’s home is for one’s family and friends and co-workers! I just can’t imagine having my husband’s co-workers over here.
You were the first person I’ve visited who had guards stationed at the entrance.
(laughs) That was because of what my father does. It was nothing.
Not that I was complaining –
Oh yes, that one guard was very handsome –
In a Mikalo-sort of way –
Yes, I think so. But I am no longer there, so …
You mentioned your husband. So, your American readers know you’re married.
Yes, but my family is very private –
I know, I know. But you do have a fascinating heritage and a fantastic family. It’s all very interesting. Your father’s work, your mother –
Yes, yes, yes, I know. But I’m so afraid of accidentally interrupting their privacy with something I say. So it is better to not say anything. You know this.
No problem. Can we talk about your years in boarding school?
That’s like asking an inmate to talk about his years in Sing-Sing, but sure, why not.
You didn’t like it?
No, I hated it. I wanted to be home in Paris with my parents and there I was, cold and alone in England with a bunch of very mean girls who thought they were better than everyone because they had money and really strict teachers who didn’t care if you were homesick. And it was so regimented. Your shoes had to be shined and your socks had to hit just under your knees and your skirts had to be a certain length, your hair neat and, preferably, tied back with a bow and, oh my god, I just hated it.
And you escaped.
No, I was politely asked to leave –
So you were kicked out.
Yes. But it backfired because I then spent my last years of school in Switzerland which was even worse. I swear I could hear dogs on heavy chains growling from beyond the hedges.
Then you came New York.
No, I went to University in England and then came to NYU in New York.
Where we met.
Tell me something I don’t know about you.
You know almost everything about me!
Then tell the three people reading this something they don’t know about you.
They have no idea who I even am.
Work with me here –
Okay, okay. I am very polite, but I don’t mind correcting sales girls when they’re rude.
Oh yeah, I’ve seen that. You’re vicious!
No, I’m not. I just very calmly tell them what they did wrong and how to do it better.
You actually brought one girl in Hermès to tears.
No, it wasn’t Hermès –
Pretty sure it was. The one on the Right. On the, what is it, the Rue de faubourg Saint-Honoré, I think.
Yes that’s right. But no, that wasn’t it. French sales girls are very tough. It takes a lot to make them cry. What you’re thinking of was at Barney’s in Beverly Hills. But if she couldn’t handle a bit of gentle criticism, what was she doing being such a mean little bitch?
Lesson for the day: don’t get on Syndra’s bad side.
(laughs) Now everyone is going to think I’m mean.
No they won’t. They’ll probably applaud your honesty and want to go shopping with you. So, more books?
Oh yes! I love writing –
And you can’t turn your mind off.
So true! My characters are very vocal. There is definitely a third Mikalo book –
Yes. And then I’m considering doing a spin-off Series for Deni, Ronan’s friend.
She’s perfect for that.
I know. I’m obsessed with her these days. I’m also thinking about doing a series or a series of novellas or something on Mara Byzan. Have her hit bottom and pull herself up.
Something like that. I’m not sure yet. We’ll see.
How could you leave Mikalo? The man is perfect. I mean, he’s one sexy beast!
I know who he’s based on.
No, you THINK you know, but you don’t.
Um, I’m pretty sure I do.
You might be right. But Mikalo is several people all rolled into one.
He’d have to be. The guy is almost too perfect.
Well, until you discover his secrets in the third book.
See, now you’re just being a tease.
Of course. But I love him. He’s just so … (sighs)
We really should talk about your creative process.
Oh no. They’ll think I’m insane.
I don’t think so. They’ll probably think it’s just like how they work.
You think so?
Sure. So …
Okay, my characters live and breathe in me. They have distinct voices, distinct ways of speaking, of acting. I close my eyes and type, basically trying to keep up with what they’re saying, with what I’m hearing, and how they’re saying it.
That sounds fascinating.
Or like I should be medicated.
You laugh, but I’m serious. I actually woke up one morning with the names Ronan Grace and Mikalo Delis in my head. Knew their story, the arc of it, the pace of it. Knew their voices and their bodies. Knew all of it.
But that’s a good thing.
It is what it is.
Oh my god, that’s so French of you.
Mais oui. (But yes) Do you think others work like this?
I’m sure of it. You know I do.
But you ARE crazy. You don’t count.
True. I really want to talk about the third book. Is that okay?
But I haven’t written it yet.
I know, I know, but it is in your head. You know their story and you know what’s going to happen. And I think it’d be fun to talk about.
So, let’s start with Mikalo’s Flame and then talk a bit about the third book –
You mean the one I haven’t written yet –
Right, right. Now tell me a bit about Mikalo’s Fate.
( … to be continued tomorrow)
Before then, if you haven’t already, go and get her new book Mikalo’s Fate now. It’s a great read. :)
Today’s NYTimes has an annoying, infuriating, ridiculous, idiotic article on Amazon’s (insert previous adjectives here) recent decision to eradicate book reviews they deem — apparently via a crystal ball or a blind throwing of darts — not fit to print.
In other words, if they suspect (again, darts or a crystal ball) that a review for your work was submitted by a family member or a good friend or someone whose objectivity can be questioned, they will delete it.
So, for writers like me who DON’T have hundreds of reviews, one or two being wiped off the face of the earth is a big deal, not that my family or good friends read my work or review it. (They don’t)
For someone like Star Author A who has hundreds if not thousands, it may not matter as much.
Then again, I doubt Star Author A is the focus of Amazon’s Wipe Out the Upstarts Inquisition. They’re going after the self-published writers who slip under the Big Six radar and dare to find success — and make a boatload of cash — without them. They’re going after the self-published writers who are, more and more, turning their noses up at the offers Traditional Publishing is making for their now successful books because the royalty structure is better if they remain on their own.
They’re going after the self-published successes because, well, they can!
And they’re doing it via the ONE marketing tool left to us: reviews.
If you’re Timothy Ferriss and published by Amazon, it’s apparently okey-dokey to begin Day One with 60+ Four- and Five-Star reviews about a book many of them have yet to read just because, you know, they know they’re going to like it. And, for Amazon, their belief — with work put out by their own Imprints, evidently — that one doesn’t have “to use a product to review it” feels to me like a blanket excuse to absolve Mr. Ferriss and other favorites from the purge.
If you are a self-published author who has spent months rounding up beta readers and working your tail off to get a healthy handful of reviews to accompany the book’s release, knowing that strong word of mouth is a key component to success, the chances of most of those being erased because you’re not lounging under the umbrella of the Big Six or draped in Amazon’s cloak of invisibility is pretty darn high.
And that’s just depressing.
Why would Amazon create a self-publishing platform and give thousands if not millions the chance to live their dreams as writers only to knee-cap ‘em at every turn and make it increasingly difficult to, you know, make a living and pay some bills?
I don’t know.
But what I do know is I’m going to head over right now and read the fourteen (yes, fourteen!) glowing reviews for Martuk and the six or seven for The Wounded King and The Elder before Amazon decides they were written by Grandpa Joe and Cousin Clyde (they weren’t) and steal them away from me in their obsession to Wipe Out the Upstarts.
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