Apple-Obsessed Author Fella
Last week’s challenge: “Doing The Subgenre Twist”
This week —
You’ve got 1000 words to write about bad parents.
Whatever that means to you? Write it down into a story.
Any genre will do.
Write the story at your blog, drop a link in the comments here so we can read it.
And that’s it.
Due by Friday, July 4th, at noon EST.
That is pretty much the grossest blog title I have ever written.
But it’s done. It’s too late. I can’t delete it now.
(I can totally delete it. And yet, I don’t. What’s that say about me?)
(HINT: IT SAYS I HAVE BEEN DRINKING.)
Anyway.
Let’s talk about store-bought salad dressings.
Most of them are shitty.
Like, I don’t mean that they contain actual feces, I just mean — they’re kinda weak. They may in fact be where the phrase “weak sauce” comes from. A lot of store-bought things are weak, honestly, but the ability to buy them is so much easier than actually making them. That said, salad dressings do not fall into this category, because salad dressings are hella dopey easy to make. You could literally, while concussed from a cantankerous mule kick, while high on benzodiazepine, while blinded in one eye by a misting of cat urine, make salad dressing. It’s so easy, you’ll feel like an asshole for ever having procured salad dressing from the store.
Anyway, I wanted to make my own Russian dressing. Or Thousand Island dressing. I dunno why it shares those two names, and really, I’m too lazy to Google it, so I’m gonna go ahead and assume it’s similar to the “French Fries became ‘Freedom Fries'” thing — maybe we were mad at Russia because of the Cold War, and so we stopped marketing Russian dressing because who would ever buy Communist Red Sauce to put on their Fresh American Lettuce. Could be we called it “Thousand Island” because that’s what we were going to do to Mother Russia with our nuclear bombs — turn the big-ass country into a thousand little islands with big kaboom.
I don’t know and I don’t care.
You can call this what you want. Hot Wendig Dressing. Gulag Gravy. Putin Coulis. Zesty Vegetable Fluid Blanket. I’m happy to take suggestions in the comments below.
Point is, you want to make a dressing for your salad.
I’m going to tell you how to do that.
Take mayonnaise.
One cup of it.
No, not Miracle Whip. Don’t bring that nonsense up in my house. You know what Miracle Whip is? It’s emulsified diabetes. With sadness oil stirred in for extra sadness. It’s gross. Don’t use it. If you use Miracle Whip, then Flavor Jesus will come down from his restaurant in Heaven and burn your soul in the castigating fires of a George Foreman grill.
Miracle Whip. What is wrong with you?
Mayonnaise.
You can make your own mayonnaise, but that really is one of those things I think it’s maybe easier to buy than make. Whatever. I like Duke’s. Your mileage may vary. (And now I fully expect you homemade mayo types to freak out in the comments about how easy it is — so, please do, I accept any and all mayo recipes you care to share, food nerds.)
One cup goes into a blender. Or into a receptacle where you can use one of those cool stick blenders. Note that I did not say “dick blender.” That is a whole different thing.
Did I mention I’ve been drinking?
WHATEVER NO YOU SHUT UP
*throws a jar of pickles at your head*
Wait, gimme those pickles back, we’re gonna need ’em.
Okay, so, like I said: one cup of mayo.
Then, four tablespoons of ketchup.
Then, one tablespoon of hot sauce. Your choice of hot sauce is your own — obviously, these days, Sriracha is quite popular on pretty much everything. I eat it on rice, hot dogs, hamburgers, pandas, street urchins. (Hey, jerk, don’t judge; street urchin is my favorite sushi.) Here, though, I might casually suggest Frank’s Hot Sauce. Because Frank’s.
One tablespoon of Worcestershire sauce (which is pronounced WOOSHTERSHURESHEER SHASS). Also, if you did not realize this as apparently many do not, Worcestershire sauce is actually just fish sauce. Seriously. People blanch at using fish sauce in their Thai dishes but then liberally dose something else with this stuff? It’s fermented anchovies, people. At least it’s not fermented people, people. Because, really, people are gross.
Three peeled shallots.
You could do onion or garlic but just suck it up and go buy some shallots. Shallots are awesome because they’re what happens when onion and garlic have a baby.
Then 1/4 teaspoon of smoked paprika (sweet or hot).
The smoke is key because I said so.
Two tablespoons of sweet pickle relish. (Or, if you don’t have relish, but do have bread-and-butter sweet pickles, toss a rough equivalent into the mix.)
Pinch of salt.
Pinch of pepper.
Blend until… well, blended. What else would you do? Blend until the world ends? Blend until your house catches fire? BLEND UNTIL YOU STARVE TO DEATH, STANDING BY THE BLENDER LIKE A SAD HOUND WHOSE MASTER DIED AT WAR AND WILL NEVER RETURN HOME.
Just blend it up, for Chrissakes.
Then put it on your salad and eat it. Or just drink it if you’re one of those weirdo adults who are averse to vegetables. Though, point of fact, if you’re one of those weirdo adults who are averse to vegetables, you’re a dumb person. And probably unhealthy. Enjoy your scurvy and your rickets, your weak bones and your tumbling teeth. Vegetables are amazing when they’re cooked right and you need to grow up right now and learn to eat a fucking carrot once in a while.
Meat is awesome, too, but vegetables are just meat that grew in the ground.
Whatever. Enjoy the Hot Wendig Sauce.
Goes good on salads, burgers, pandas, and street urchins.
Brian McClellan is my beard brother. TREAT HIM WELL, INTERNETS. That is all. Anyway, here he is to talk about some things and some stuff. Stay frosty.
* * *
A week ago I put out a new novella called Servant of the Crown. It’s the second novella and fifth piece of short fiction based off the world I created in the Powder Mage trilogy. That trilogy, starting with the novel Promise of Blood, is published by Orbit Books, the science fiction and fantasy imprint of Hachette. The short fiction is something I put out myself electronically.
This makes me a “hybrid” author. You may have heard the term. Our own friend Chuck Wendig has written about it for Writer’s Digest. In short, a hybrid author is someone who has fingers in both traditional and self-publishing. These kind of authors are becoming more and more common.
In my experience, most authors approach hybridization by putting out some novels themselves and others with their publishers. Maybe it’s every other book. Maybe one in three. Everyone does it differently and that’s something that I took to heart when I got my initial idea for the Powder Mage short fiction.
Back when I had just signed my first contract, I asked an author what he thought about writing in other universes for pay. Star Wars, video game freelancing, that kind of thing. I had gotten a nice advance but I knew it wouldn’t pay all my bills, and was looking around for other options. He told me to forget it. Freelancing for another intellectual property is fantastic and can pay well, but I had a good a contract for a shiny hardcover trilogy. Focus on my own universe because it was just that: mine.
I thought about this a lot. I considered applying for a creative position at Riot, one of my favorite computer game companies. I daydreamed about writing for Blizzard or Star Wars. After all, I grew up reading Star Wars novels and playing Warcraft. How stinking cool would that be to write in those universes? I never pursued it seriously.
The idea of self-publishing came up once in a while when my bills were tight. I had some old novels laying around that I could clean up and put out myself, but that seemed kind of silly when I have an agent and a publisher. If I was going to go to that effort I might as well try to sell them traditionally. But I worried about trying to juggle two original universes. I don’t have that kind of brain power.
Like looking for a creative job in another EU, I never took the plunge on self-publishing a novel. Then, strangely enough, I read an article about erotica.
The article talked a bit about the success some erotica authors were finding on Kindle, Nook, and the other self-publishing platforms. They’d go for volume, pumping out a 4000-word piece every week or two, and build themselves a big backlist. Over time, that turns into a pretty solid income stream.
We could have a debate over “art” and “selling out” and “oversaturation of the market,” but I thought that was a smart business model. Maybe I could make a serious go at self-publishing with shorter stuff like what these particular erotica authors were doing. But I was writing in fantasy, not erotica, with a different end-game in mind. I didn’t want to just pump out a bunch of content to make a buck. I wanted to create something with the depth of a fantasy world and, happily enough, I had a universe already handy.
I took an idea for an origin story of one of the side characters from my trilogy and wrote an 8000 word piece called “The Girl of Hrusch Avenue.”
I had a budget of exactly $0. Using some awesome friends and family, I had it edited professionally and threw together an adequate (if generic) bit of cover art. The only hiccup came when my agent asked if my publisher was going to be cool with this. After all, they had the rights to the trilogy that this universe was attached to. After a stressful day or two waiting for my agent to check with them, I got the green light.
The result wasn’t overwhelming at first. The way Amazon’s royalty rate is set up I would only make $.35 off of a $.99 sale, and I could not in good conscience charge $2.99 for one of these short pieces (the minimum required to make a 70% royalty rate). But they kept selling consistently, and my first book Promise of Blood was doing better and better, and I noticed that when my novel had a good week the short piece would often have a good week as well. It was a small spike, no more than a few books, but a logical and easy correlation.
I wrote another short piece and did the same thing. Zero budget but with professional editing and lots of beta readers. Put it out. It did a little better than the first. Then Promise of Blood went on sale for $1.99 and got some well-placed publicity and there was a (for me) huge spike on the short pieces as well, which put money directly into my pocket every month. For someone who gets paid sporadically, that’s kind of a huge deal.
Over the fall, a bunch of awesome things happened. Promise of Blood was a finalist for Best Debut Goodreads Author in the Goodreads Choice Awards and a semi-finalist in the Fantasy category. It garnered a few more cover quotes by really awesome authors. The sales continued to increase (it was still $1.99 at this point) and with them the sales of my short fiction. For about every ten sales I got of the novel, each piece of short fiction sold one. Small, sure, but that does add up.
I was pounding out book three, The Autumn Republic, at this point. I had ideas for other short fiction and fans had started to ask me about putting out more. But I was pretty busy. That’s when Orbit delayed The Crimson Campaign by two months. It was a good decision in the end and I’m glad they did it, but I was the one who had to tell fans that it would be late. In the end, I delivered the news and immediately tore into writing what would become my first novella, Forsworn. I hoped if I could put out something new, they might forgive the delay easier.
I revisited the Powder Mage Universe, this time with a prequel featuring the mother of one of the main characters. I gave myself a $500 budget, which I quickly went over, and I commissioned my first professional art and was able to pay a copy editor. With a longer piece and real cover art, I felt good about charging $2.99. Note that this means Forsworn would make six times as much money per sale as “The Girl of Hrusch Avenue.”
From start to finish, Forsworn went from an idea to readers’ hands in about six weeks, reaching them a full two weeks before Crimson Campaign‘s original release date. It sold well and no one complained about the price, which is something I worried about a lot. I never want people to feel like I’m trying to rip them off.
This is the point I realized that I had created my own expanded universe.
There are a few downsides to self-publishing an EU. For one, I have to keep all this stuff straight. If I write something in a short piece it’s technically cannon. I can’t just pull a Star Wars and wave my hand, saying none of this actually happened in-universe.
Well, I could, but it would be a jerk thing to do.
I worry about oversaturation. More publishing credits means I’m hawking more things on social media, which is a dangerous line to walk before getting all of your friends and fans annoyed with you. I also worry if I put out one of these short pieces too often if people will get sick of them, but I suppose if that happens I’ll just see sales dry up.
In the end, it has too many upsides to ignore. It’s good for me because I get to pull down an extra small salary from a half dozen electronic publishers. I get to explore all the little side plots and prequel stuff that would never make it into the novels. I also have greater control. I can see how many of each story are selling each week and on what format, with all that data at my fingertips. Deadlines and production times aren’t really a thing. The last novella, Servant of the Crown, went from an idea to published in less than four weeks.
It’s good for my publisher because I’m creating things that draw my fans deeper into the world, getting them more excited for the next book to come out. And it’s good for my fans, because they get to explore the world alongside me. Every time someone emails me and says they can’t get enough of the Powder Mage Trilogy, I have someplace I can point them.
All of this is because, as a friend once advised me to do, I’ve invested in my own universe rather than one that belongs to someone else.
* * *
Brian is a flintlock fantasy author of the Powder Mage Trilogy, including Promise of Blood, recent winner of the Gemmell Morningstar Award. He lives in Cleveland, Ohio with his wife, where he plays computer games, gardens, and tends his hive of minions honey bees.
His newest is the novella, Servant of the Crown:
Captain Tamas is an ambitious young officer in the Adran army. As a commoner, he is one of very few without noble blood to hold a rank. When he challenges the son of a duke over an insult, the subsequent duel lands him in hot water with the nobility and the royal cabal of Privileged sorcerers. Tamas is soon drawn into a conflict that goes to the very highest office in the land, and his only ally is the most unlikely of people: a young noblewoman named Erika, who needs Tamas to teach her how to wield her powers as a powder mage.
Brian McClellan: Website | Twitter
The Powder Mage Series: Amazon | B&N
Hey, sooooo. Here’s something.
Planning on pre-ordering Blightborn?
If you do, you could win a Kindle Paperwhite.
Blightborn, Book Two in my Heartland series, continues the adventures of the Big Sky Scavengers in a cornpunk agri-dystopi-pocalyptic future where the poor Heartlanders scrabble in the dust and the bloodthirsty corn while the rich Empyrean flotillas float above their heads.
The official description:
Cael McAvoy is on the run. He’s heading toward the Empyrean to rescue his sister, Merelda, and to find Gwennie before she’s lost to Cael forever. With his pals, Lane and Rigo, Cael journeys across the Heartland to catch a ride into the sky. But with Boyland and others after them, Cael and his friends won’t make it through unchanged.
Gwennie’s living the life of a Lottery winner, but it’s not what she expected. Separated from her family, Gwennie makes a bold move—one that catches the attention of the Empyrean and changes the course of an Empyrean man’s life.
The crew from Boxelder aren’t the only folks willing to sacrifice everything to see the Empyrean fall. The question is: Can the others be trusted?
They’d all better hurry. Because the Empyrean has plans that could ensure that the Heartland never fights back again.
Chuck Wendig’s riveting sequel to Under the Empyrean Sky plunges readers into an unsettling world of inequality and destruction, and fleshes out a cast of ragtag characters all fighting for survival and, ultimately, change.
It also features more than one Pegasus. And a grackle named “Erasmus.”
Just so you know.
Anyway!
So, the book comes out next month in Kindle, paperback, and hardback (yep, all three formats at once). Preorder any of these — and send me proof of said pre-order — and you might win the aforementioned Kindle Paperwhite. (Extra bonus: pre-order the Kindle version, which is only $3.99, and you get a free short story set before Under the Empyrean Sky.)
I’ll also toss a prize-pack to a runner-up.
Prize-pack is a handful of my books devalued with my signature:
The Kick-Ass Writer
Under the Empyrean Sky (hardcover)
Unclean Spirits
The Cormorant
You can send proof of preorder to me at terribleminds@gmail.com.
Subject of the email must be: [Blightborn Preorder Contest Entry]
Brackets included, please.
Proof of pre-order should be easy to obtain. Just screencap the order information (you can grab it on Amazon in Your Account > Your Orders / Digital Orders > Open Orders), then email it to me.
This contest is good up until 11:59 EST on Monday, July 28th.
United States participants only, please.
I’ll pick two winners (one for the Kindle, one for the books) on Tuesday, July 29th.
On Friday the news broke that Strange Chemistry, Angry Robot’s sister imprint and my publisher, was shutting doors effectively immediately. Which meant that Delete, the last in my Shifter series of books wasn’t going to be published in August as planned.
As you can imagine I was gutted.
I cried. A lot.
I drank. A lot.
I generally stomped around feeling angry and sorry for myself. But then, as the rum hangover started to clear, I realised that actually there were some important lessons to be learnt in all of this. And I will share those lessons with you, thusly:
The outpouring of support* for everyone affected by the Strange Chemistry closure has blown me away. The publishing community is a family (complete with the drunken, grumpy uncle who mumbles sexist shit in the corner and everyone tries to ignore). Like all families, they bicker and fall out and want to kill each other a lot of the time. But when it comes to it, they rally together. The tweets, emails, texts and calls that came flooding in after the news broke was proof of just how amazing humans can be.
While it felt like the ground had opened up underneath me because I wasn’t going to be able to complete my series, I went home and looked at the two books that had already been published. And it made me realise how lucky I was that they existed at all. I’d had the experience of seeing my books out there in the world, on bookshelves, being read by people. And that was pretty freaking awesome.
It’s so easy to lose sight of your goals once you’ve achieved them because they become replaced by new goals. Once you get an agent all you care about is getting a deal. Once you get a deal all you care about is getting a bigger deal. Or awards. Or whatever. It’s so rare to take the time to look at what you’ve achieved and go ‘well, bugger me, I did it.’ And so whatever happens next, I’m going to make sure I never forget to feel grateful for what has happened so far.
I’ve worked in advertising for over 15 years so I’ve seen business at its most ruthless. A few years back, I was working for an ad agency that went out of business overnight and 50 people were out of a job a month before Christmas. So there I was, with a new mortgage and no job wondering what the fuck I was going to do. What I did was go freelance and get a contract within twelve hours of the company going under. It taught me that no job is ever safe, so there’s no point in clinging on to a job you don’t love. It taught me to feel comfortable with risk and know that if there’s a choice between taking a chance and standing still you should always take the chance. Because if you’re going to fail, fail while daring greatly.
It’s one of those old chestnuts that writers say a lot. Along with: where are my goddamn pants**? But it’s true. Because there are no certainties in publishing. And if you write for an audience or a marketing niche or to a trend and it all goes to shit, what you’ll be left with is a book that was written to a brief rather than one that was written from the heart. But if you write for you, no matter what happens, you’ll have a book that you’re proud of even if you’re the only one who will ever read it.
That’s what I did with my book Glaze. It didn’t find a traditional home, but it’s is out in the world kicking butt, and I couldn’t be prouder of it.
In the three-act structure there’s a plot point right before the final act called ‘the reversal’. It’s when the protagonist appears to be closest to achieving their goals and it’s all taken away. Like in Karate Kid when Danny LaRusso gets injured in the final and you supposed to think it’s all over. But us viewers, we know what that means. It means they’re going to come back even stronger than before. And everyone who’s ever been knocked back needs to remember: It will all work out in the end. And if it hasn’t worked out, it’s not the end.
So Mr Miyagi up, mutherfuckers, and go out there and start crane-kicking some ass.
* The best way you can support any Strange Chemistry authors is by buying their books, or checking them out of libraries, and reviewing them. Also, keep an eye out for all the announcements (no doubt coming soon) on what they decide to do with the books that have been cancelled – and then buy them.
**Which is an even more disturbing thing to hear if you live in the UK.
* * *
Kim Curran is the award-nominated author of books for young adults, including Shift, Control, Delete and Glaze. She studied Philosophy & Literature at university with the plan of being paid big bucks to think deep thoughts. While that never quite worked out, she did land a job as a junior copywriter and has worked in advertising ever since.
She is a mentor at the Ministry of Stories and for the WoMentoring Project. And lives in London with her husband and too many books.
Kim’s newest is Glaze:
PETRI QUINN is counting down the days till she can get on GLAZE. But when a protest turns into a riot, Petri is blamed and banned – from the only social network worth being a part of. Her life is over before it’s even started. Desperate to be a part of the hooked-up society, Petri finds an underground hacker group to set her up with a black-market chip. But it has a problem: it has no filter and no off switch. Petri can see everything happening on GLAZE, all the time. Including things she was never meant to see. As her life is plunged into danger, Petri is faced with a choice. Join GLAZE… or destroy it.
It is summer.
Time of heat.
Of sand.
Of cool drinks and crappy plotless movies.
Also: an excellent time to read.
NEW BOOKS ARE COMING.
Seriously, scads of awesome releases coming in the next few months — so, whatcha got? What’s on your radar? And, if you’ll permit me a follow-up question:
What’s one of your favorite summer reads? A book that seems divinely-crafted to sit on the beach and devour while your body turns to a glistening lobster-colored blister?
Be advised: crappy people recommend their own books.
Don’t be crappy.
See you in the comments.
