I am finishing the mastering (read: fixing) the audio recording of Fatal Score in hopes of going live in time for an author event. (For those of you in Minnesota, it’s at The Loft in Minneapolis on February 26th. I’m one of eight writers participating. If you’re on my list, I’ll be bugging you about it shortly.)
Self-publishing has often been considered a failure on the part of the writer. My friends have been polite, but the serious writers among them are holding out for representation and the big time. I went ‘Amazon only’, which I think was a mistake, at least for me. So here I am at the computer, itching to begin novel #4, but instead excising plosives and other mouth noise from the audio.
But … but … but … today’s mail brought that medicine which we can all use: a good laugh. It came from a good friend, Weaver Gaines, which made it doubly sweet.
And here it is, courtesy of and no doubt copyrighted by the New Yorker.
I have thought of myself as a writer for most of my adult life. In 2011, I became a fiction writer full time. I studied creative writing as an English major in college. Then came family and career. I worked in finance and biotech and did a wonderful stint in Vienna. Now, I have the opportunity to use those experiences as the substrate for my stories. My first novel takes on the world of Big Data and the very timely issue of cyber war. The second uses the manipulation of financial derivatives as impetus for attempted murder during a trip from Vienna to Budapest on the Danube.
I have taken writing instruction at the Cape Cod Writers Conference and from The Loft in Minneapolis. I am finding writers’ groups to be very helpful as concept editors, as well as practical advice from the published authors. I am in three such groups. I have taken writing instruction at the Cape Cod Writers Conference and from The Loft in Minneapolis.
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