The Idea for the Twisted Mind of Cletus Compton

This summer, for the first time in years, I had a schedule. This put me on a long, dark (more like pitch black), lonely road to my home  several nights a week.
Being a writer, I should be able to describe to you what made the hair on the back of my neck stand up as I drove.
The road goes between one small town in the Ozarks to an even smaller farm community with only one viable business, a convenience store.
About a mile down this road you lose the light from the first town and the light from the quick stop ahead of you is not yet bright enough to be visible. All you have to guide you is your headlights.
There is no shoulder on the road. On one side, the back of fence of several farms flashes in the headlights. The other side is a hill goes up and disappears into the shadows, just past that is the railroad track.
In the last ten years, I have driven this road a thousand times, but this summer it triggered a recurring nightmare.
In my nightmare, I as drive down this road I spot something. I slow down to  take a closer look. I spy a large wooden crate made of sassafras sticks tied together with yellow baling twin.
I turn the car toward the box so the light shines on it and slowly get out. The box is about 20 yards away. Should I go see if anything is in the box or should I stay close in case it is dangerous?
Something moves and I jump, trip over a rock and land on both hands and knees. From that position, I can see there is a small human chained to the crate.
At that point, I wake up.
I had this dream every night. It got so I hated to close my eyes.
One night when I woke up from my scary dream, I jumped up and went to my office where I wrote it down. That was at 2 am. At 6 am I was still writing and I was on chapter 6. That is how the Twisted Mind of Cletus Compton became a novel.
The funny thing is, after that night I never had the nightmare again.
Hum... leave me a comment and tell me what you think. Where did the dream come from? Why did it go away so abruptly?

Tierney James talks about her career and writing.

Tierney James is a talented author and speaker. I had the opportunity to interview her. If you have not had the chance to read Unlikely Hero, take the time to do so today.

You write some fast moving spy thrillers, what led you in that direction?

I was the kid who liked dinosaur movies, westerns, Tarzan and Mighty Mouse. Maybe my shyness made me want to act brave and fearless, I never talked to a shrink.  Later it was action movies like Indiana Jones, The Wind and the Lion and so on. I liked dangerous and exciting. Then one day I read The Judas Strain by James Rollins. I fell in love with thrillers. He taught me so much about writing and soon I had read all his books. Writing thrillers makes me tingle with excitement. Conspiracy, cliff hangers, mysterious strangers, all get my heart pumping and my adrenaline flowing. Most people when they first meet me think I'm a sweet, tea drinking Baptist with not one spark of courage. When I write-well, watch out!

Is Tessa based on a real person? Of course we don't expect you to reveal secrets but hints are always nice.

Tessa came to be because of some unusual incidents that happened to me when I lived in Northern California. People were always mistaking me for someone named "Melanie". I would be stopped on the street, pulled aside at the DMV for questioning and once someone called me at home. I started to wonder who this Melanie could be; was she in trouble, honest, dangerous, a criminal or someone in the witness protection program. After all the DMV didn't believe I'd just moved there from Missouri. Someone with my information lived in Santa Barbara. My family didn't believe me at first until months later a strange man approached me, whirled me around and started talking. He also called me "Melanie".  Needless to say, I started getting a little more respect after that encounter.  In my first novel, An Unlikely Hero, the house and town where the action takes place is real. I lived there. 

How did you research your novels?

My research, for the most part, takes place on the internet. It is so much easier than going to library these days. I get a story idea from a picture, a song or place I visit then the research starts. A year ahttp://amzn.to/1gh7WIhgo I read an article about the Wahkan Valley in Northern Afghanistan. I've been collecting information about the area to weave into my third novel, Rooftop Angels.

Do you have a set writing schedule?

No. I do try and write or edit each day. I do writing things like research, read or study writing books. But I believe you must do this each day. It's like practicing the piano. Skip a couple of days, weeks or months and the music suffers. Write. Write. Write.

How important is social media in your marketing and writing process?

It is becoming more of what I do because it is demanded from publishers. I don't like promoting myself because it isn't something that comes easy for me. I'm learning by compiling a notebook of ideas, formats and websites that give me more confidence in this area. I also have taken a few webinars to educate myself. Social media is a real inspiration killer. It just takes a great deal of time in which I'd rather be writing. I'm trying to discover ways to circumvent that so I can get on with the business of writing. I would much rather be a guest speaker than recruit on social media. But I do it anyway. You just have to jump in and make yourself known.

I have found that most writers are avid readers, who are your favorite authors?

James Rollins, Steve Berry, Brad Thor, David Baldacci, Daniel Silva, Clive Cussler, Nora Roberts, Elizabeth Lowell, Sandra Brown and Terry Brooks.

Take a little time here and tell us about yourself. Getting to know the author is fasinating.

Besides being an educator of World Geography, I've been a Solar System Ambassador for NASA's Jet Propulsion Lab, worked and lived on an Indian Reservation and traveled in Africa, Asia and Europe. All these places and activities are fodder for storytelling. My family is the most important thing to me on this earth. Some of the hobbies I enjoy are gardening, writing, traveling, reading and I love music. I'm a life long learner so I'm always on the lookout for new information.

Novels: An Unlikely Hero (#1) Winds of Deception (#2 editing) Rooftop Angels (#3 editing) The Rescued Heart (under     contract with Black Opal Books)  

Children's Books: There's a Superhero in the Library & Zombie Meatloaf.

Thanks for inviting me to your blog. I hope your readers will check out my work. 

 

Shameless Self Promotion with a little insight added.

Okay, one paragraph of self promotion and then my blog.

 

I have attached the first Chapter of Tattered Wings at the end of this blog. Of course, I am hoping  it will grab your attention and keep you from sleeping  until you buy the book and read the ending.

Yesterday I had lunch with three talented ladies. They are writers, publishers, musicians and all around interesting people.
We talked about writing and characters and the publishing business.
It is so good to know that other people have characters roaming around in their heads. These phantom folks who eventually live in the pages of a novel completely written in our minds.
The hard part is sitting down at your desk on a beautiful spring morning and putting it all down on paper. That is why it takes me so long to write a book. (I am trying to change my ways.)

Tattered Wings was penned on the ten year plan, not because it was so difficult to write, but because I could always find something to do that distracted me from the business of getting it down on paper.

Finally I did it. I made myself get up and go straight to the kitchen for coffee and then off to the office to write. I now know the key is to get it down on paper.  The book can always be changed, characters tweaked and locals investigated.

Once you are at a point where THE END is inevitable, bombs burst in air, the sun shines brighter and you feel ten pounds lighter.

The Adventures of Diggitty the Dog  was quite another story. I wrote Diggitty on a legal pad in forty-five minutes in the dark with only a nightlight to guide my words.  It had been on my mind for a long time to write a series of children's books based on my real life dog Diggitty and things that actually happen here on the farm. I am trying to write Diggitty Dog and the Dairy Cow, but I know I will have to wait until it is ready to be written. Mahaaaaaaaaa.....Strange things happen to me when I am writing.

So if you write, sew, draw or cook and it is a labor of love, get with it. Make a schedule, don't let anything distract you. When it is all said and done, people usually regret what they didn't take time to do.  Enjoy the first chapter of Tattered Wings, and a special thanks to Patti Tierney,  Susie Knust, and Sharon Kizziah- Holmes for a great afternoon and insight into how the artistic mind works.

Look for Unlikely Hero by Tierney James (Patti), Twentieth Century in Rural America, The Shockley Family Stories, by Susie Knust, and  Sharon Kizziah-Holmes new Romantic Short Stories, you won't be disappointed.

Tattered Wings, Chapter One.

Ian Michaels only had one foot in the back door when Maggie stepped into his office.

“Ian, I’m glad you're here. There's a girl in the waiting room. She says she must see you.”

“Who is she?”

“She's the sister of the Johnston kid who supposedly killed all of those people.”

“Why does she want to see me?”

“She didn't say. When I drove up this morning she was sitting on the steps. I told her it would be best to have an appointment, but she wouldn't leave.”

“Strange.” Ian shed his overcoat.

The phone rang and Maggie reached over the desk to answer it. “Ian Michael's office, may I help you?” There was a pause before she spoke again. “Yes, I'll tell him. One moment please.” She pushed the mute button and looked up at her boss. “It’s the district attorney's office. Tom Waters wants to speak to you.”

The lawyer shrugged his shoulders. His practice was almost exclusively divorce oriented with a few corporate accounts and wills for old friends and neighbors. None of his clients warranted a call from the district attorney. Taking the phone from his secretary, he pushed the button to activate the sound. “This is Ian Michaels. How can I help you, Tom?”

“I'm calling about the Johnston boy.”

“Why me?”

“In his initial interview he told me you were his attorney.”

“This is the first I've heard about it. I don't handle criminal cases.”

“I didn't think so, but the kid had your business card. He gave it to me himself.”

“If it weren't for him having my card, I'd say I was a random pick. I don't want any part of it, truthfully, I haven't followed the case. Isn't he just a kid, fifteen or sixteen?”

“He's sixteen.”

“What do his parents say?”

“They’re not in the picture. Because he’s a minor, we tried to get them down here. I finally sent a patrol car for his father and we hauled him to the station. He sat in on the interview. All he did was say over and over he had done all he could. I think he's relieved the kid's in jail.”

“My suggestion is that you get him a public defender. Isn't that standard in a case like this?”

“I would think you would want to see him if only to find out where he got your card. So, his parents haven't contacted you?”

“No, but his sister is camped out in my waiting room. She told my secretary she couldn't leave without seeing me.”

“Well, let me know what you decide to do,” Tom continued. “He's a strange little bastard.”

“I want no part of this. I don't intend to see him or his sister. Get him a public defender.”

Ian set the phone in its cradle and turned toward Maggie. “Tell the girl we’re too busy to see her today.”

Maggie stood rooted to her spot. “Don't you have the slightest curiosity about her?”

“Not really.”

“She's awfully upset.”

The phone rang again. Maggie turned on her heel and walked toward the door leading to the waiting room and her desk. “I'll answer that from out here.”

Ian pushed away from his desk turning his chair toward the window. The panoramic view of Forest Park below always made him feel better. He was beginning to relax his way into the day when his secretary came back into the room.

“Yes, Maggie?” He had a feeling about what was coming next.

“Ian, please see the girl. She isn't going to leave and what we're going to end up with is a nasty scene if we’ve got to have her removed. It's only a couple of minutes out of our day. Your first appointment isn't due for over an hour.”

Turning to face his secretary he heaved a heavy sigh and stood. Taking his time, he stretched each muscle in his neck and back until some of the tightness was gone. Maybe he was overreacting.

What could it hurt if he saw her?

He was suddenly tired as he followed Maggie to where the girl was waiting.

A slow sweep of the outer office showed nothing had changed. Everything was as he wanted it- but for the girl. She sat tucked into a massive chair at the far side of the room, near the exit.

There she was, crumpled like a rag doll. Her clothes were neat and clean. She wore skinny jeans and a crop top and looked like a thousand other teenage girls he had passed on the street.

Maggie was at her desk, busy with the computer. Ian looked at her and back to the girl. “So you're still here?” he said.

The girl didn't answer him. All he got was a slight nod of her elfish head.

“Bring Miss Johnston into my office,” Ian said in a voice that cut the unnerving quiet in the room.

Maggie jumped to her feet. “Yes sir.” Ian could feel her hot stare on his back. He was out of the room before her words reached him.

He looked up as his secretary and the girl walked into the room. He saw Maggie give the child a smile.

How could someone so small and insignificant looking, so young, be the cause of so much uneasiness in a grown man?

“You’ve been waiting a long time, Miss Johnston,” he said in his most businesslike voice.

“How’s it you think I can help you?”

“I’ve come about my brother.” She wiped her hands on her jeans, and then massaged her temples.

“What about him?”

She glanced over to Maggie and then back to him before she spoke.  At five feet six inches Maggie's tall lean slender body looked huge next to the child.  The kid sat ramrod straight with a poise well beyond her age, quite different from the waif he had encountered in the waiting room. Ian watched as Maggie nodded at the girl and gave her another smile.

“My brother wants you to come to the jail and talk to him.” 

“Why me?” Huge tears began rolling down the teenager's cheek, staining her already tired and worried looking face. He hated to see a woman cry.

“I don't know. I'm only doing what he asked me to do.”

“Don't cry,” he said, acknowledging her tears. “Maggie, would you get our guest a tissue?”

It wasn’t in his nature to make the girl suffer, but he didn't want to encourage her, either.  He overcame the urge to relax and lean back in his chair. “Let me explain my position. I'm not the kind of lawyer your brother needs. He seeks an attorney who handles crime. I don't do that. You'll have to explain that to him.”

“Mr. Michaels. You don't know Kenny. He'll haunt you, make your life miserable, until he gets his way.”

Ian slammed his hand on the desk with much more force than he intended. “Do not threaten me, young lady.”

“I'm not threatening you. I just want you to understand.” Her hands trembled as her voice quivered in a bizarre unison. She hesitated before she continued. “Kenny is – well – different. He’s got no one to help him- only me – and I don't want to. Our parents are divorced, our mother doesn't live here. Our step-mother won't lift a finger to help. She wants it known he's not hers and she's not responsible for what he did. My dad, well, he does what needs to be done to keep peace in the family. I think he’s seen Kenny once because the cops came and got him.” She was talking so fast, Ian couldn’t stop her until she paused.

“I understand he's your brother, but your family's best course of action is to contact the public defender's office. They'll appoint someone to represent Kenny.” He stood to indicate the interview was over.

The girl looked at Ian but remained seated. “Kenny doesn't want a public defender. He wants you.” He could see she had no intention of leaving now. He saw fear in her eyes.  After taking a deep breath, Ian glanced toward Maggie. She’d been watching the entire exchange as if it was a tennis match. He wondered why she seemed to be rooting for the girl.

Ian was still standing. Tension hung like stale air in the room. A man beaten at his own game, he looked down at the tiny girl as if for the first time. He let his body fall back into the familiar seat behind him.

“What's your name?”

“Amber.”

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

“All right Amber, I'll speak to your brother. I'm only going to find out what’s going on, and how I became a part of it. I’m not consenting to defend him.”

Amber all but melted in her chair. The expression in her eyes was what he imagined he would see in the eyes of a convict getting a stay of execution ten seconds before the switch was thrown. “I'll drop by the jail tomorrow.”

“Oh, Mr. Michaels, thank you, thank you, and thank you.” For a minute Ian thought the teen was going to come over the desk and hug him. Instead she backed out of the room, tripping over things as she went. She mumbled to herself as she left the office.

Maggie and Ian sat in silence.  Ian turned his chair toward the window.

Why was the girl so afraid?

“Maggie,” he said.

“Yes, Ian?”

“Can you get me the papers with the accounts of all the murder and mayhem the boy's supposed to be a part of? And call your buddy over at the court house. Find out what they're saying. Not the official stuff, I want to know what they really think.” He glanced at his watch. “How does the rest of the day look?”

“Mark Robertson will be here at eleven and we’ve got Mrs. Schneider and her will at two. At four- thirty David Marshall’s coming by to sign his custody papers and go over the terms of visitation.

All in all we have a light day.”

“Thanks.” He remained staring out the window.

“Was there anything else?” He was lost in thought and had forgotten she was still sitting there. “You can go. Let me know when Mark gets here.”

Ian heard the door close softly behind her as she went back to her office. He stood and ran his hand from his collar to his waist to straighten his tie and leaned on the window sill. He could see Amber running down the street and he shook his head.

“Mark Robertson's here.”

“Send him in.”

He was never fond of Mondays.

 

 

 

 

 

Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic, no not Arithmetic: MARKETING.

There are as many ideas about how to market your book as there are books. For those of you who don't know, 900 books a day come onto the market. That is about 386,000 books a year. Of those, most sell about 500 copies each.

We are all sure we wrote the great American novel. Our characters are unique, our story is one of a kind, and we have edited it into a fine tuned piece of literature. The rub is: so did most of the other people in those 386,000  cases.

So what do we do to make our novel, book, short story, thriller, romance, non-fiction, soon to be classic stand out in the crowd?

I am becoming an expert in this field. At least an hour or two a day, I cruise Google, YouTube, marketing sights, and blogs, trying to come up with new ideas.
Here are some of the best so far.

1.Write a press release. Make it no more than 300 words and write it in 3rd person. This lets you avoid the "I" word all the time. 

2. Send a picture of you with your book any time you do a correspondence. If they have the story AND the picture, you have a better chance of getting your article in the paper, magazine or whatever venue you are addressing.

3.Take signed copies of your book (s) to the local library and donate them. Try to make this a photo op and ask them to put it on their bulletin board so everyone coming into the building can see it.

4.Offer to read your book at the library if it is a children's book. If it is an adult book, offer to give a book review. If you don't think you are an expert, think again. You are a published author. That carries weight and everyone wants to know what inspired you, how you developed your characters and chose your location.  Remember, everyone thinks they have one good novel inside them. You could be the inspiration to get them started.


5.Take books and business cards everywhere you go. Don't be afraid to tell people you are a writer.

6. Call schools, offer to read your book  (children's) to classes. Don't charge, but tell them to let the parents know you will be there and how much the book is, and WHO to make the check out to if they are paying by check. Believe me, if the check is made out to the school you will NEVER get it and will have to resign yourself to the fact that you just donated your proceeds.

7.Talk to schools about speaking to older children about writing books. They love it, they ask great questions and again, they won't have money with them so take cards, and/or bookmarks, and hold you book up a lot so the cover  makes an impression on them.

8.Have a Face book presence and post tidbits about your book.

9. Look at trailers on YouTube and make one yourself. They don't have to be as elaborate as some you see.

10. Take copies of your books to popular local shops. Offer them 10-15% of the cover price for selling them on consignment.

11. Visit your local bookstores and do book signings. They love having you.

Okay. That's enough for today.
Good luck, happy selling and don't forget to support each other. No one knows more than we do how good it feels to see a friend or acquaintance has re-tweeted or re-posted our stuff.

Motivation

There was a time when I didn't get the concept that motivation comes after the fact.
In other words, you must force yourself to do a chore the first time and then the, feeling of success you get gives you the motivation to do it again.

I proved it to myself again this morning.  Being obsessed with getting my book Tattered Wings published, I find myself sitting hour after hour.  I read it.  I reread it.  I make changes.  Then I send out query letters and pages to prospective agents. When I look up at the clock it is noon.  My pj's are still on and I have downed a pot of coffee.

The result of this daily behavior is stress and sore muscles.  This morning I changed my routine.  I got up, did the minimum chores I could ( no easy task on a 100 acre farm) and headed to the gym. Twenty minutes on the treadmill, ten minutes on the StairMaster and a variety of arm weights, helped melt the tension away.

Now, I find myself looking forward to going to the gym tomorrow.  When I sit five hours working on my novel,  I can smile. I did accomplish something for my health today.  Tomorrow I will work on leg machines and increase my times on the tread mill and Stair Master( I didn't want to throw my body into shock on the first day).

Do something today for yourself.  Sure, I am writing my book for me as much as anything (actually it is to get rid of those voices in my head).  But, I am not doing it as the expense of my health.
Next I am going to tackle my ice cream obsession.

Tattered Wings, off the computer and into the world

Today, I finished the final rewrite on my novel Tattered Wings.
It will go to my friend and friendly editor Marlee Yant in the next few days.
Tattered Wings is a timely story about Kenny Wallinger and Jeffrey Stainhour.
They are two strangers brought together by a vicious murdering spree perpetrated by sixteen year old Kenny.
Jeffrey, a successful middle-aged attorney, knows nothing about criminal law yet finds himself center stage when he defends the boy.
There are stumbling blocks.
Everyone knows Kenny is guilty. Even Kenny does not deny his own guilt.
Our story is about our attorneys personal life, which falls apart and his obsession with the whys and hows of the murders.
What kind of a person walks into a school and opens fire on innocents he does not know?
Does it matter if it is a shopping mall, a college or a political rally? This has been going on for years.
The first recorded mass murder was in the 1800's and was committed by a Native American.
What or who pushed Kenny?  Is he insane? Were there indications he was capable of the horrors he achieved?
We find out.
Along the way we meet the Sister he terrorized.  We meet his religiously fanatic and insane birth Mother.
Kenny's birth Father has always loved him, yet being a coward , he never stood up to anyone.
And we can't leave out Shawna, Kenny's horribly abusive Step-Mother.\
As Jeffrey pokes and prods into the case, his marriage of over twenty years falls apart.
This novel is told in 90000 words of fast paced prose.
It answers questions, but creates some also.
The characters, although fictional, are people you will care about and others you will loathe.
I had no idea when I began it, someone would take the lives of twenty beautiful children in Connecticut.
God Bless them and those left behind.
Susan.