Fail Deadly, the Next Step: ß

I am almost finished with Alpha, soon to need Beta. Which is to say, I am near the end of the rewrite of my third novel, Fail Deadly.

The first draft was the easy part … six months on a roller coaster ride, wind in the face, screaming along the tracks of the plot. Unalloyed joy. Then began the hard part: Rewrite. I am truly fortunate to be a member of three critique groups, so the chapters have gone before a jury of talented writers. Line by line, character by character, week by painstaking week, they have stayed with the story. They are, in the parlance of writerdom, the Alpha readers. I am almost through integrating many of the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of suggestions.

The next step is the Beta. The Alphas can’t do it — they’re too familiar with the detail. I will need several people willing to read the manuscript all the way through, looking for character flaws, plot inconsistencies. Or perhaps most valuable to me (as well as most painful), saying, “I got bored at page X and couldn’t finish.”

If you, dear reader are interested in being a Beta, let me know through Contact page or straight to gotuit5243@gmail.com.  I’ll have the manuscript in Word and PDF files, e-books in Kindle and Nook formats, as well as a few paper copies.

A Good Laugh

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. 

Courtesy of the New Yorker via Weaver Gaines