Confessions of very minor author
Okay, I know I’m not a household name. A few folks, though, have read my books, and from time to time drop a nice comment at my Facebook page or on my website.
But, as a vma (very minor author) who doesn’t receive any press attention worth mentioning, I have to tell ya, sometimes a review just makes a brother’s day.
See, writing the stuff isn’t the struggle. I’ve been doing it since I was ten (and nobody needs know how long ago that was). I wrote when it was free, I composed when I was underway (aboard a ship at sea, for you lubbers), I’ve written divorced, jobless, and heartbroken. I’ll keep writing, I guess, until I’m physically unable to do so.
However, since I’m not “important enough,” in a literary sense, for newspapers and webpages to spontaneously run reviews of my work…I’m never sure if it’s any good.
Of course, I hope it’s good; that it was worth getting up a 4am most days to write, likely annoying both my wife, who was sleeping, and the cats who were also sleeping on my office chair. Novels do take some time and energy, and something about the idea has to be interesting enough to keep me thinking and typing at length about it.
Family and friends want to be encouraging, even if what you just spent months working on really isn’t their cup of tea.
Example: my father, God love him, was an early reader of The Thing from HR, the first book in my Cthulhu, Amalgamated series. He’s read everything I’ve written since before High School. Dad He said he enjoyed TTFHR, but was compelled to ask, “What were you on when you wrote that?” (In the biz, we call that “qualified praise.”)
So, that’s were strangers come in. Them I don’t have to importune at random to take a look at my books. Most of readers have actually tossed me a couple of bucks for the privilege of spending time with my prose. Sure, it’s good for the ego to hear one of my books is the best thing they’ve read in years, but what I really value is the confirmation that the idea was worth the time spent. My time and that of my gentle readers.
And, too, when I’m in the middle of a long slog, when it’s just a grind (like beginning page 12 of what is surely going to be a 400 page novel), the kindness of strangers goes a long way.
Excellent – I started reading the first of six books because I am an avid follower of the WW1 era. I got hooked on the skill of the author and his fascinating characters. I kept reading each book and two weeks later I have finally completed the series. I compliment the author on his command of English and the wonderful journey on which he takes the reader- even, unexpectedly, to the country of my birth, South Africa. The final 30 pages of the last book are sublime.
Thank you, Greta B., wherever you are! (And, yes, I resisted the temptation to go back and read those last 30 pages to bask in the sublimity…)
This next one was even more awesome, since it’s for my risk new non-fiction book, “The Thing From HR.” It’s like nothing I’ve ever published before, and, well, take a look:
Enjoyable Lovecraftian Romp – H.P. Lovecraft’s work seems to have become the stuff of parody these days, but rarely is it done as well as here. Parody quickly becomes tiresome if it is not accompanied by characters the reader can identify with (the same as with all writing, I suppose) and “Thing from HR” does not disappoint in this respect. A hapless underling from the Domain Beyond the Stars is sent to Earth on a somewhat unclear mission. To help him fit in, he is accompanied by the spirit of a deceased human (a.k.a. Poo-Flinger) – meaning they wind up sharing the same body.
As mentioned above, our hero’s briefing was poor to nonexistent and thus the reader discovers details at about the same time as our friendly shoggoth Narg does. Where and when on Earth was he sent? What is the mission he was given? Will he and Murph, his human guide, ever stop slugging one another in the face?
Mr. Griffis does an excellent job of giving the reader just enough information but not too much. This not only maintains suspense but doesn’t saddle us with information we don’t need. For example, we do not learn exactly how or when Murph died, but it really isn’t necessary; his internal dialogue with Narg tells us everything we need to know about him.
The “meat suit” or human body Narg was assigned is the source of some pretty dark humor here, as it takes more and more abuse over the course of the book. Narg does wonder whether the former Professor Weisenheimer, the host body, ever did anything to deserve what happened to him… we don’t get an answer to this question either. This demonstration of the ruthlessness of the Nightmares From Another Dimension (Narg uses a lot of titles like this) is a good balance to the overall humorous tone of the book. It isn’t just a frothy romp; there is a lot at stake here.
There’s mystery, suspense, a touch of romance and body parts galore. You won’t regret getting this book. Highly recommended.
See what I mean? Thank you everyone!