Friday, June 5, 2009

Sunset Papersales On Hold Later This Month

Paperback sales of Sunset will be on hold later this month as I release a better edited version of he novel. It will also be formatted slightly different which will take the page coundt down slightly. This in turn will allow me to bring the price down about a buck also. I apologize for any inconvenience this causes any potential buyer. For now it will continue to be sold as is. The on hold period will hopefully last only a week. Thanks again for your continued support.
-JJ

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

I'm glad you're going to edit it this. Remember Sturgeon's law, 90 percent of everything is crap. And Hemingway had something to say about writing himself, which paraphrased comes down to, mostly everything in your first draft is shit.

btw, I don't read, or post to my livejournal page, it's a bookmark, that's all.

Anonymous said...

a short critique <
Please, take this seriously; I wish someone had kicked my ass and pointed me in the right direction the way I'm doing here with you, if you want to write, and be published by a publishing house, you need to heed my warnings.

ididnotlikethissorry > 06/03 06:52:49


a short critique < I_did_notlikethissorry > 06/02 22:12:52

Your writing has no bite, it's written in an entirely too passive voice. Your characters have no taglines, details, description. and there's no action. I had so much trouble getting through the first chapter because it reads like a list of things, Chad says this happened, they laugh at him, he has a job, he walks home, no one's home...the writing is colorless. you need to figure out what to add, what your characters think, how they talk, what they like, tell us if they smell, or can't speak without spitting, if they like porn, or dominoes; you need to add lots of detail, and please, god, ratchet up the action. Nothing happens in the first chapter. below i'm including a better beginning. it's not great, i'm working from the bones of your story, but it's better. for what it's worth, here it is.

Anonymous said...

better beginning < I_did_notlikethissorry > 06/02 22:14:45

Chapter 1
Sunset: Survivors
Chad Grable Wichita, KS October 5th, 1991

Ever run into to people that just know, without a doubt, that shit has hit the fan? That things are about to go south? They know when to run, not show up, or make no effort to involve themselves in life to keep themselves safe. That’s me, I’m one of them, so I knew, just knew this was going to happen. I knew. But, no one believed me, even though I shared what I knew with everyone around me. When I say, “The shit’s going to hit the fan,” it does, but no one paid attention. I tried to let people know harder this time. “Shit’s coming.” But most of the time people would just look at me, laugh, and say, “What, Chad? Again? Come on, shit’s always hittin’ the fan. Life sucks, we don’t need you tellin’ us how much it sucks all the fuckin’ time.”

But this time, this time, lots of shit would be hitting the fan. Lots of it. I stopped preaching about shit right before I knew it was coming.

I bought a gun. A 9 millimeter automatic, with a thousand rounds of ammo, 6 clips, that’s how I got ready. No big preparation, most of my friends had guns themselves, and I never saw the need for a weapon; I didn’t hunt. Didn’t target shoot. So I surprised myself when I walked into a gun shop, filled out the paperwork, and 2 months later I bought my gun. I have to admit, it’s pretty cool to have a weapon, and all those years playing Grand Theft Auto gave me some keen hand-eye coordination; so I think, as far as I can judge, I’m a pretty good shot. I blew through three hundred rounds pretty quick, tearing beer cans and small trees to shit. I bought more ammo to keep me at a 1000; for some reason that seemed like a magic number.

Anonymous said...

better beginning 2 < I_did_notlikethissorry > 06/02 22:15:37


I keep my 9 under my bed in shoe box and put comics on top of it, the ammo was stored under my mattress, making a slight bump in the bed that mom never noticed when she came in to change sheets. Or maybe she did notice and didn’t want to find porn, or drugs, or some of the other things she was so sure I was into. She wasn’t wrong about that, but my other stash, porn, weed, I hide in the closet; which she never cleans.

No one knew about the gun. I didn’t even tell my girlfriend, not that I kept her in my confidence like that, but I was fucking her, and though she wasn’t beautiful, and I wasn’t in love, in the afterglow of a good fuck, fucking on top of all that ammo, I never felt the need to brag. I kept cool.

Time passed, shit was coming closer, I grew a little jumpy, nervous, but I kept cool; on the outside I was cool, and the day before the shit came, I stared at the funny clouds in the sky, and felt the difference in the air, and any outside observer would have seen me and said, “Hey, that’s one cool dude.” And they would have been right. I was cool. Almost catatonic.


JJ, you need to belong to a live, and in-person writer's group, who is moderated by at least one currently publishing author. Find one, and develop a thick skin; your writing needs a lot of work. Get the help from experienced people. The editor in your self-published attempts isn't good at what they're doing. The don't help you develop characters, or plot. only a real editor, or honest working professionals can help you with that.