Review THE CITY OF SACRED BONES And Get A FREE Gift!

My second novel, The City of Sacred Bones, was published in August and it's slowly getting buzz. If you already bought it, awesome! Thank you for your support, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. (If you didn't buy it yet, what are you waiting for... ;-)

To help create more buzz, let me throw an offer out there: if you review The City of Sacred Bones on Amazon, I'll email you a copy of my short story, The Department of Lost and Found. When you post the review, simply email me and I'll send you the file right away!

On Amazon, reviews are everything. Their algorithms keep track of many factors, including purchasing history, best-selling ranks, pricing...and reviews. Reviews are key for writers like me. You see, the more reviews a book has, the more "visible" it becomes on Amazon. The more visible it becomes, the higher it raises in the ranks. As you can imagine, those two things help create buzz. And buzz is the proverbial Golden Ticket for writers.

REVIEW THE CITY OF LOST SECRETS HERE

Reviewing the book only takes a few minutes, and I'll reward you for it!

Thank you for your continued support!

Happy Reading,
Katie

The City of Sacred Bones Available NOW!

Just wanted to announce that my new e-book, THE CITY OF SACRED BONES, is being serialized for Kindle, Nook and all things i-whatever. The first volume is available NOW for only $0.99. I've added links below if you're interested in purchasing.

For Kindle
For Nook

For Sony Reader, Kobo, and most other e-readers

As a promotion, if you are willing to review the book I will give you a FREE copy! Just contact me and we'll work out all the details.

Below is a teaser trailer of what you can expect...

Thanks for all your support. Hope you enjoy reading it!

Some of My Latest Obsessions

I'm highly influenced by movies, books and especially music, so it's no wonder my friends call me "artsy fartsy." I'm known to go through phases of obsession--listening to a song over and over, quoting a movie for days on end, stealing a few minutes here and there throughout the day because I just can't enough of the un-put-downable book I'm reading.

So here are a few of my current obsessions. Hopefully you'll find value in them and pass the word along to all the "artsy fartsy" members in your social circle.

1. Singer Mikky Ekko - You've heard him sing with Rihanna, now listen to this Louisanna-born, Nashville-bred musician's solo stuff. Soothing and ethereal, Mikky's talent deserve recognition.

2. TV program SCAM CITY - This TV show puts economist and traveler Conor Woodman on the tourist trail in some of the world's most favorite cities to unveil the darker, seedy underside of tourist scams. Props to this Irishman for risking his life and health in the name of consumer advocacy. Fascinating stuff--and essential watching for every traveler...

3. Movie AFTER EARTH - A lot of people say director M. Night Shyamalan lost his mojo after Unbreakable. But I think the criticism shouldn't be that his movies are bad (because in my humble opinion they're not) but that misdirected marketing made them out to be something they weren't in order to boost box-office sales. I think this movie may set the record straight that Shyamalan is indeed a crafty screenwriter and creative filmmaker.

Book Excerpt: The City of Sacred Bones

In my last post I dangled a carrot and said in my next post I'd be publishing an excerpt from the forthcoming Mara Beltane mystery series, THE CITY OF SACRED BONES. Well, the next blog post is indeed this blog post, so I'm going to shut up now and get on with the excerpt. Without further ado, the first three chapters of THE CITY OF SACRED BONES, a work-in-progress and sequel to The City of Lost Secrets.
(To see a video trailer of THE CITY OF SACRED BONES, click here and scroll down a bit.)

CHAPTER 1

Piazza San Pietro

St. Peter’s Square

Rome

The cobblestones were still damp from early morning rain and tourists flooded the square. I navigated my way through the elliptical space, past the pink granite obelisk, and stared up in awe at the statues of the saints perched high atop the curved colonnade that surrounded me.

Suddenly a child darted across my path, rousting a pack of pigeons and sending them in a cacophony of wing flutters across the sky. I sidestepped the young boy, who frowned at his failure to catch one of the birds, and continued walking straight. The palace-like façade that was my final destination loomed in front of me, a behemoth of Renaissance mastery.

I had received an email from my Israeli friend Uri a few days before. He had heard about the success of my latest novel and wondered if I might be up for another adventure. Perhaps I needed material for my next book, he’d asked. Maybe he could help me research that book too, he’d suggested.

“If so,” Uri wrote, “meet me in Rome.” 

He’d chosen St. Peter’s Basilica as a meeting place for a reason, but it hardly mattered why.

I would have followed Uri anywhere.

I trusted him enough to know that he wouldn’t lead me on a wild goose chase, and, truth be told, I missed him.

So I hopped on a plane and flew to Rome.

During the flight I mentally prepared myself for the unknown, because Uri was always good for that: Ushering you headlong into a roller coaster journey of discovery. And when you start the journey, he warned me once, you may not turn back.

I was reminded of that while walking through the square. I finally spotted him standing near the steps leading up to the columned entrance of the basilica, an umbrella in his hand. As I approached, he smiled.

“Mara yakiri,” Uri greeted me. My dear Mara.

            “Hi, Uri,” I said.

He looked good. Perhaps a little more gray on top, but otherwise, Dr. Uri Nevon was still a handsome devil.

“It has been a long time,” he said. “You look beautiful, as always.”

I blushed and stared down at the dark cobblestones. Then, gaining the courage to face the man and the adventure he was inevitably about to lead me on, I said, “So why here? Why Rome?”

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” he said.

“Inside the basilica?” I asked.

“Perhaps.” He flashed a devilish grin. “Perhaps not.”

“I…I don’t understand.”

Uri took my hand and a pulse shot up through my arm. It had been so long, I’d almost forgotten how comforting—how natural—his touch felt.

“The person I want you to see may or may not be here,” Uri said, looking me deep in the eyes. “But this is where your journey must begin.”

CHAPTER TWO

 

It had been almost two years since I’d seen Dr. Uri Nevon. In that time, I’d taken a break from writing chick-lit novels, assumed a pseudonym in which to publish a planned series of biblical thrillers, and celebrated as the first book shot up the New York Times bestseller list.

But that wasn’t my original, intended path.

When last I saw Uri, I wasn’t even going to write the novel he’d helped me research. I didn’t think I could. Or should. I’d told Uri I wouldn’t. Besides, the book wasn’t the genre I usually wrote in. It wasn’t what my readers were used to. And it was controversial. The novel had the potential to blow up in my face, ruin my career.

Instead, it did the opposite.

It became a best-seller, made me, my agent, and my publisher a lot of money, and soon enough attracted the attention of Hollywood producers looking for a possible movie adaptation. There was even talk of me writing the screenplay.

I celebrated by skipping town, hopping on a plane bound for Rome.

Truth be told, I was tired from all the promotion and publicity. Early morning news shows. Multi-city book signings. Talk shows. Radio programs. Lectures at colleges and universities. And, most recently, meetings with hot-shot movie producers.

It was exhausting. Talking about the book ad nauseam, giving the same sound bites over and over, answering the same agreed-upon questions… It left me listless and spiritless. After six months of non-stop publicity, I had become an emotionless robot that was simply going through the motions of promoting a book I no longer had any passion for. 

But I had to remind myself that this was what I wanted, to reinvent my career and become a best-selling thriller writer. I had done it, so now I must deal with the consequences of fame and fortune: The increased demands on my time. The endless comparisons to similar writers. The bevy of reviews both positive and less so. And the expectation of a follow up book that would be just as popular and profitable as the first.

Oh, no bones about it--there would be a kick-ass follow up.

But first, I needed a break.

Going to Rome would accomplish the latter, and plant the seeds for the former.

My agent, Jenny, was less than thrilled by the decision.

“You’re going where?” she had said, sounding exasperated. “Now?”

I’d justified the trip to Rome by saying it was a research trip for the second book of the series. “Movie deals take forever,” I’d said. “There’s time. Besides, I’ve done all the promotion I can possibly do for the book. It’s about time I start thinking about book two, don’t you think?”

            Jenny was silent for a moment, which meant one of two things: either she knew I was right and didn’t have the courage to swallow her pride and admit it, or she was intentionally changing the subject so that the conversation was back in her favor. In this case, I thought she was attempting both.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with that Uri fellow, does it?” she finally said.

            “I don’t know. Maybe,” I said.

            “Mara….” Jenny said, sighing.

            “I know, I know,” I said. “But look, he says he has material I could use for the next book.”

            “And this…material…just happens to be in Rome, one of the most romantic cities in the world? The city that, in fact, is the origin of the word Romance.”

            We were both quiet for a moment.    

“I could use a vacation?” I finally said, attempting to further justify the trip, as if knowing my first excuse hadn’t worked.

            “Mm hmm,” Jenny said.         

“Look, big sis…” I said mockingly.

“Hey, right now you need an older, more experienced woman’s advice. I ceased being your agent the moment you told me you Uri was involved.”

“I don’t need advice. I need to write the second book.”

“You need a swift kick in the rump for even contemplating the notion of you and Uri being a couple.”

“That’s not my intention. I told you I need--”

“What you need is to stay away from him,” Jenny interjected. “He’s in love with someone else and being with him in Rome, of all places, will not do you any good. He’s a distraction you don’t need. He’ll only bring you more heartache.”

“Wow,” I said. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Begin by emailing Uri back, telling him thanks but no thanks.”

“Unbelievable,” I said. “You’re unbelievable. No wonder I flew off to Jerusalem to research the first book without telling you. To spare myself the tongue-lashing.”

Jenny sighed deeply and cleared her throat. “Look, Mara. You’re more than just my client. I care about you. And I’m concerned that seeing Uri again will affect you in a negative way—personally and professionally.”

“You’re concerned you’re going to lose your cash cow,” I whispered.

Luckily Jenny hadn’t heard me.

“After all,” she continued, “it’s not like you need to meet him in person in order to get the material he claims to have. He can simply email the information to you and you can do your own research from there.”

“After all,” I countered, “It’s not like Uri taught me everything I know on the subject of the Talpiot tomb. It’s not like he showed me some of the most precious artifacts known to biblical history, artifacts that, you know, seen in the flesh inspired me to write a best-selling novel that made you rich!”

I flinched and pinched my eyes shut the moment I said it.

Jenny’s shock registered in the way her quick inhale of breath caught in her throat. She was silent after that, and this time, I knew that the pride that usually kept her from admitting fault kept her silent for another reason: Hurt caused by a trusted yet unnecessarily cruel client-turned-friend.  

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Well,” Jenny said. “There’s no taking it back. It’s out there.”

“I really appreciate your encouragement and advice,” I said. “You stuck by me through every up and down in my career.”

“Yes, I did,” Jenny said.

“And I wouldn’t have been able to publish this book without you. You were a crucial piece of the puzzle and the one person who—despite doubts--helped catapult its success. You deserve every penny.”

“Yes, I know,” she sniffed.

“And now, because of your continued belief in its marketability--”

“Okay, enough,” Jenny interrupted. “Stop kissing my tush. I get it. You value our relationship.”

“I do, Jenny. Really I do. So you have to believe me when I say that going to Rome is the right thing for me to do.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“I trust Uri. He wouldn’t let me go to Rome on a whim. He’s got something. Something that’ll make for another best-seller. I just know it.”  

“Just be careful, okay?” Jenny said, resignation in her voice.

“Always,” I said.

 “So what’s the second book going to be about?” she asked.

“I don’t know yet. I have to go to Rome to find out.”

           CHAPTER 3

I stood under the portico of St. Peter’s Basilica, looking into the deep brown eyes of my Israeli friend, Dr. Uri Nevon. Almost two years had passed without so much as an email between us, so I was unsure about a lot of things. Was he still teaching at Hebrew University in Jerusalem? Was he still in communication with his ex-fiance, Ziva, a fellow professor who’d broken their engagement upon learning of his near-obsession with the Talpiot tomb, only to marry the man who’d arrested Uri for breaking into said tomb? Did he continue his friendship with Lev, the young shop clerk and almost brother-in-law who’d helped him break into the Talpiot tomb?

            Mostly, though, I wanted to know his reasons for wanting to meet me here, in Rome, at St. Peter’s Basilica. And, secretly, I wanted to know if he ever thought about me, and our kiss…

            We had some catching up to, and I was hoping a weeks’ long visit would allow me to unwind, reacquaint with Uri, and get inspired for the next novel I needed to write.

At the moment though, I was distracted. As if Rome in the spring wasn’t overwhelmingly distracting enough, Uri was holding my hand and looking at me in that curious way of his, with his eyebrows arched and his mouth set, as if waiting for me to make the next move. I’d seen him do this many times, as he stood before a roomful of eager students in a lecture hall, awaiting questions or answers or for lively debate. So while I had sorely missed the affection of a handsome, successful, passionate man—perhaps this handsome, successful, passionate man--and I craved his kiss, the city of Michelangelo surrounded me, and I couldn’t help but think about the first time I found myself in Rome.

It was nearly ten years ago, and Thomas and I were on our honeymoon. We were blissfully happy and completely unaware that in a few short years our marriage would crumble and fall apart. During our week in Rome, we’d gained more weight than we cared to remember eating pizza and pasta and creamy gelato; attempted to walk it off in more museums than our brains had power to remember; and marveled at the architecture and history of a city that, after the fall of its mighty empire, became the center of the Christian world.

I’d even thrown a coin over my left shoulder into the Trevi Fountain, the most cliché of touristy actions, thus supposedly guaranteeing my return to the City of Seven Hills. At the time I was certain that I’d return to this magnificently beautiful city. After all, how could anyone avoid the allure of a city that did nothing less than give birth to a language that is spoken by nearly 800 million people worldwide, inspired popular tales of love that changed the face of literature forever, and gave rise to the mightiest empire the world has ever known, and has yet to see the likes of since?

Yes, I was sure I would return to Rome, but naively I thought I’d be accompanied by my husband, the love of my life. But Thomas, never one to believe in superstitions, didn’t throw a coin into the Trevi Fountain. He didn’t need an old wives’ tale to tell him he’d return. Perhaps with his refusal, our fate had been sealed. Because here I was, back in Rome after nearly a decade…alone.  

            But at the moment I had Uri for company.

            “So…this is it,” I said, spinning around to take in the sprawl and the splendor that is the piazza of St. Peter’s and the mother church of Roman Catholic Christendom.

            “The most sacred of shrines,” Uri said.

            It was then that I noticed a man over Uri’s left shoulder approaching us, calling Uri’s name. Uri spun around, said a few words in Italian to the older gentleman, and shook his hand vigorously.

            “And I have the perfect person to show you around,” Uri said, stepping aside so the man could be properly introduced. “Ms. Mara Beltane, may I present to you Dr. Giovanni Maderno, professor of architectural sciences at Sapienza University of Rome. He’s the foremost expert on the history and architecture of St. Peter’s.”

            Dr. Maderno smiled and bowed slightly. He was the same height as Uri and slender, with curly black-and-gray hair slicked back from his forehead. He was, I guessed, about fifty-five years old. “Ms. Beltane, such a pleasure to meet you,” he said in accented English, squeezing my hand firmly. “I’ve heard so much about your book from Uri. Complimeni.”

            “Thank you,” I said, sliding my eyes briefly to Uri for any sign as to what was happening. I was expecting to have Uri to myself for the day, but obviously Uri had other plans. I should have expected as much, for Uri to have another surprise up his sleeve, but not so early into my visit. “I owe much of my success to Uri.”

“Nonsense,” Uri said, finally looking at me. “The full credit goes to you.”

I searched his eyes for the answer that I was looking for, that Uri wanted to spend the day with me as well, but came up empty. He returned his gaze to Dr. Maderno, beaming at his friend and colleague with the pride of a young man looking up to his older brother.

“Mara,” Uri said, still keeping his eyes on his colleague, “Not only is Giovanni the top expert on St. Peter’s, but he is also an ancestor of none other than Carlo Maderno!”

The professor straightened his back and raised his chin, as if to honor his long-lost relative. “Sì, è vero,” he said. 

“Who’s Carlo Maderno?” I asked, looking between the two men for confirmation.

“Why, he designed this beautiful façade!” Uri said, motioning his hand down its immense columned length. “And he had the gumption to change Michelangelo’s design…”

“Ah, more like he was pressured to change Michelangelo’s design,” Dr. Maderno corrected. “But there is time enough for that, no?” he said to me.

Then, turning his attention back to Uri, the professor said, “My friend, you are getting ahead of me. You mustn’t ruin the private tour I have planned for Mara.”

“My apologies, Giovanni. You know how excitable I can be.”

“Yes, and always so full of surprises,” the professor said, turning to me. “Wouldn’t you agree, Mara?”

“Well, up until two minutes ago I didn’t know he spoke Italian, or had the slightest clue that I’d be having a privately-guided tour today,” I said, perhaps too harshly. Then I forced a laugh in attempt to cover my anger-laced words borne of disappointment. “So yes, I’d say our mutual acquaintance is something else.” I looked at Uri, who only shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

Dr. Maderno chuckled. “I must admit,” he said, “I had a little bit more advance notice of your arrival than you did of your tour. But I would’ve agreed to meet you no matter how late the invitation.” Then he turned to Uri. “Nulla per un vecchio amico, no? Anything for an old friend,” he said, slapping Uri on the back.

“Grazie,” Uri said.

Dr. Maderno turned to me. “So, Miss Beltane, are you ready for your tour?”

“I guess so,” I said.

“Well, I shall let you two be,” Uri said, looking at both of us in turn. “Giovanni, thank you again for being so agreeable at a last-moment’s notice. Let us meet up again while I am in town.” The two men shook hands.

“Are you sure you can’t come with us?” I asked Uri.

“I’m afraid not,” he said. “I have some things to attend to. But you are in good hands.” Then he took a step closer. “Enjoy your tour,” he said, taking my hand and forcing a piece of folded-up paper into it. “I will see you again very soon.”

And with that, Dr. Uri Nevon left our company, proceeded down the marble steps of St. Peter’s Basilica and disappeared into the throngs of people in the piazza.  

                                                         ********

 So there you have it, a teaser as to what you can expect from THE CITY OF SACRED BONES. What do you think so far?

How's the Writing Going, You Ask? Well, It's Going

Holy cow, has it really been since January that I’ve blogged? I’ve no excuses, other than to say I’ve been realllly busy promoting THE CITY OF LOST SECRETS, the publication of which will be celebrating its one-year anniversary in August. And I’ve been sorta busy writing the sequel, THE CITY OF SACRED BONES.

I say “sorta busy” because I must admit I’ve been slacking. The second book requires a lot more research than the first book, and well, I’m just not that into it. The subject itself is fascinating but the time commitment it takes is daunting. That’s my hang up. I’d much rather sit down and write, rather than sit down, research, and THEN write. But it’ll be worth it, because this novel has a lot more action and intrigue and a plot that’s pretty kick-ass, if I don’t say so myself.

So when people ask how the project is going, instead of going off on a tangent about how the research part sucks, and I can’t find the time to do it, bitch bitch bitch, gripe gripe gripe, I simply say, “it’s going.” It’s much easier that way, since no one wants to hear me bitch (they just want to read the damn book already) and because most days I don’t feel like talking about my slacker-ness. I’ve found it’s a win-win that way.

My curt two-word answer does seem a bit insincere, I realize, because if people didn’t care, they wouldn’t ask how the writing’s going. So for those people who persist and ask follow-up questions, I usually give them a little teaser like, “Mara’s been reunited with Uri in Rome, but he just threw her a curve ball and announced they’re going back to Jerusalem to meet with some very high-ranking but elusive people. People whose secrets are protected by none other than the Pope himself.” Or something like that. It only sounds that good in my head. But my verbalized version of that usually elicits an “ooh” or two anyway.

So for those of you who are interested, and who’ve been asking how the writing’s going, I wanted to offer a little bit more than just, “it’s going” and a dangling carrot about the Pope. I want to give you a sneak peak of the first two chapters of THE CITY OF SACRED BONES.

Sign up for my email list or shoot me an email and I’ll send it right out to you. Or you could just wait until I post the excerpt here, although I don’t know when that’ll be….

Oh, and here’s the trailer for it.

Hey Oscar! What About These Underrated and Overlooked Movies? (aka Awesome Movie Alert!)

With the Oscars quickly approaching, all eyes are on the blockbuster movies of 2011, those that have already won awards at festivals, and those that will win the most coveted of award--an Oscar. But there are other, just as worthy movies that for whatever reason were overlooked and underrated. So okay, only one of the three I listed were released in 2011, making the other two ineligible for awards anyway, but still--these are worth watching. Trust me--they're good.

WARRIOR -- Remember Tom Hardy as the preppy British con-man Eames in Inception? Well, the character he plays in Warrior couldn't be further from Eames in physicality or personality. Mr. Hardy all but disappears as the bitter, angry, rough around the edges MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) fighter Tommy. The movie has some brutal fight scenes, but stick with it--there's a great plot filled with flawed characters (including the always awesome Nick Nolte as Tommy's recovering alcoholic dad), and a showdown in the ring between Tommy and his estranged brother that is as violent as it is heart-breaking.



FISH TANK -- You may have seen Michael Fassbender, well, everywhere last year. He played mutant Magneto in X-Men: First Class; the ever-brooding Rochester in Jane Eyre; a secret sex-addict in Shame; and Carl Jung in A Dangerous Method. Now forget about all those movies for a minute. Are they gone from your memory bank? Good--now go put FISH TANK in your Netflix queue and see the German-born, Ireland-raised Fassbender before he was a hot leading man. Here he plays mysterious boyfriend who gets in a bit of hot water when he gets too cozy with his girlfriend's daughter. The movie is raw and powerful, the ending is completely unpredictable, and Mr. Fassbender's performance--albeit a minor character--rises above the rest and shows a true star on the rise.



THE HIGH COST OF LIVING -- You'd be forgiven for thinking that Zach Braff only does comedy, seeing as he's most famous for the TV show Scrubs and the indie movie Garden State. But he does drama too, and pretty well, in 2010's The High Cost of Living. He plays a small-time drug dealer in Montreal whose whole life changes when he hits a pregnant woman with his car. The movie is life-affirming, touching, and doesn't insult your intelligence with a typical, neatly-wrapped-up Hollywood ending. And Mr. Braff's performance is moving.




Hooked? I thought so. These movies are well worth your time. Go check them out--NOW!

Plots and Heroes Are Easy, It's the Bad Guys That Get Me Every Time

For the past two weeks I've been working on the second book in my Mara Beltane mystery series. Notice I said "working" and not "writing." That's because I'm in brainstorm mode, figuring out the plot and major characters--most notably, the antagonist.

I've got a good handle on the narrative arc and the "good guy" characters. As with the first book, those elements came easily. It's the bad guy who's being a pain in the ass.

I struggled with the antagonist with the first book, too. Every book needs a good guy with a goal and a bad guy that impedes the good guy's progress. That's what gives a book action and plot. I'm proud of THE CITY OF LOST SECRETS, but I do think the antagonist could have been a little stronger, a little more fleshed out. That being said, I need to up the ante with the second book.

I thought I had a lock on who the ultimate baddie would be, but then I realized he's appeared it lots of other books before in my genre, and he's, well, played out. Shame too, because everyone loves to hate the Camerlengo of the Holy Roman Church--the guy responsible for the property and revenue of the Vatican. We love him because of his silent power and his mysterious presence and his ability to run a tight ship. Secretly I think we all want to be that guy. But we hate him because, well, somehow "profit" and "Pope" seem oxymoronic and hypocritical and downright wrong. The papacy shouldn't be a for-profit entity, right? RIGHT? So he was turned into a bad guy because frankly, we didn't know what else to do with him.

But the Camerlengo-as-bad-guy thing is just plain cliche now, so I'll be having none of that in THE CITY OF SACRED BONES. Oh, right. The second book's called THE CITY OF SACRED BONES. Here's a little teaser video:



I've switched gears a bit, let go of the Camerlengo, and latched on to another, better idea for a bad guy. He's connected to the Church, and the Pope, but in a round about way. That's all I'm going to say for now; you'll just have to wait until the book is published to find out who he is. In the meantime, I'll throw you a bone. His official title is "The Custodian." How's THAT for a bad guy name?

Awesome Movie Alert

My husband and I are movie junkies. We don't discriminate as far as genres go; we love all movies but are particularly fond of period historical dramas (me), sci-fi adventure (him) and quirky comedies (both).

We're too cheap and too bothered by people to go to the movies, so we depend on Netflix for our entertainment. Every Friday and Saturday night is Movie Night at our house. We draw the shades, shut off our phones, cuddle on the couch, and immerse ourselves in a two-hour film fantasy. We do this almost every Friday and Saturday night--unless we get distracted by, you know, real life...

Right now our Netflix queue has 23 movies in it, and another 36 are "saved" for future viewing. This weekend we'll be watching "30 Minutes or Less" and "Margin Call." Have you seen them? Are they any good?

Speaking of good movies, here are three I've seen lately that are simply awesome. You should check them out if you haven't already. You'll be hearing more about them in the coming weeks as award season hits.

Another Giveaway: FREE Copy of The City of Lost Secrets

Starting today, you can enter to win a free copy of my novel, THE CITY OF LOST SECRETS from my writer buddy S.M. Boyce's blog. See all the details and enter to win here. It's ridiculously easy to enter; just give her your first name and email address.

Where you're at it, check out her 31 Days of Giveaways contest that my book is a part of. All month long, she's giving away a book a day from fellow writers she's partnered with to help promote writers and their work.

Also while you're at it, check out S.M.'s website; she's a writer too, and pens fantasy and paranormal fiction. She does a lot to promote her fellow writers and is one heckuva gal! Help support her!

If you've already read THE CITY OF LOST SECRETS (thanks! You're awesome!), enter to win a copy for that special reader in your life! Christmas may be over, but there's gotta be someone you know who has a birthday coming up, right?

Thanks for reading and don't forget, the contest ends next Monday 1/16.

GoodReads Book Giveaway Now Closed

Thank you to the 1,000+ people who signed up to win a copy of my novel, The City of Lost Secrets, on the GoodReads website. I was completely STUNNED by the amount of interest in the book and thank each and every one of you for entering the contest. I wish I had a thousand books to give away to all of you! Seriously, I'm simply amazed and so very grateful. You rock!

Alas, I could only give away two. The winners have been notified (by me and by GoodReads) and the books are on their way. Here's hoping they like the book and are willing to give me a review and/or feedback.

If you didn't win and are still interested in the book, it's available for purchase on Amazon and Barnes & Noble and Smashwords. If you download it to your Kindle you can get a Kindlegraph.

Thanks again to everyone who entered!

Know Someone With an Unique or Unusual Job? Pick Their Brain, Then Send 'Em My Way

I never thought being a novelist was a particularly interesting occupation. The way I see it, I’m just an average person with a side career as a writer, a job just like any other. I may be writing about extraordinary or unique or unusual people doing extraordinary or unique or unusual things, but honestly, my job as novelist—the process itself--is kinda boring.

So imagine my surprise when a few people told me over the past couple of months, while discussing my debut novel The City of Lost Secrets, that they thought writing was a fascinating career. (It’s not, just ask my husband. But thanks for thinking so.)  These same people went all Freud on me, wondering what motivated me to write about biblical archeology, asking how my husband felt about my long mental absences, and drawing conclusions about the autobiographical nature of the book.

It freaked me out at first. I don’t necessarily want people to know certain personal things about me, and I feared that I unknowingly revealed my innermost thoughts through my fiction. But whatever. What did I expect would happen after “putting myself out there” as a creator of fictional worlds and characters? It’s cool though, because these people are now fans of my work and just want to know more about me and the psychology behind it all, so of course I give them honest answers—and continue to let them think being a novelist is the shit.

So while I think “novelist” isn’t exactly the coolest gig in town, I believe there are plenty of truly interesting and unique jobs out there, occupations you just don’t hear about everyday. Like Industrial Hygienist. And Pet Therapist. And Rag Picker (more on that in a minute). And those people who travel around the country firing other people from their jobs, George Clooney “Up in the Air” style. I think the correct job title is Corporate Downsizer.

You don’t bump into people like that everyday who actually do those jobs for a living. Those are the types of people who show up in novels, right? Because let’s be honest: successful books (and movies and TV shows) are populated with interesting people doing interesting things. Lisbeth Salander, the damaged computer hacker goth girl from Stieg Larsson’s books? Yeah, interesting chic, and a character I would’ve given my left arm to have created. Willy Wonka. Harry Potter. Sherlock Holmes. Hannibal Lecter. Interesting characters with unusual jobs.

I mean, no one wants to read about a copier salesman. He’s boring, right? He’s your best buddy. The guy you play poker with on Friday nights. He may be an upstanding citizen and a great family man who makes an honest living but sorry, that’s boring. He’s just an average guy. Nobody wants to read about the average guy with a boring life.

Now, if your best buddy was a copier salesman who had a secret identity…lived a double life as, I don’t know, an undercover government agent who roughed up Russian gangs illegally importing photocopiers…now we’re talking. That’s an interesting guy with a cool story to tell! I’d want to write about him and you’d want to read a story about him (but not necessarily my story).

The show Dexter works on the same premise: A forensics experts who moonlights as a serial killer, hunting down criminals who’ve escaped justice. Interesting guy with an average job and an extraordinary, um, “side job.”

Now, remember earlier when I mentioned the occupation Rag Picker? I watched a show the other day about 19^th century Parisian “rag pickers,” people who made a living rummaging through trash in the streets of Paris to collect it for salvage. Rag picking was a career most prevalent in the 19^th and early 20^th centuries before organized trash collection came about. Here’s a picture I found of what a “typical” Parisian rag picker looked like:

Looks like a guy with an interesting story to tell, right?

Rag pickers still exist, most notably in India and Cairo, Egypt. What instantly grabbed me was the fact that picking through garbage was and still is a noble and honest occupation in some areas of the world. Who knew? Theirs is a story yet to be told, the plight of the rag pickers, and damnit, I’m gonna tell it. I’m going to write an historical drama set in 19^th century Paris about an extraordinary boy born into a filthy world who must overcome great odds in order to realize his true power. It’ll be Oliver Twist meets Benjamin Button. I’m jazzed about it and have already written the first chapter.

I’ll write the rest of that story later, right after I tackle the ones about the industrial hygienist, the pet therapist, and the copier salesman/government spy. Oh, and the eight other novel ideas that are floating around in my head. (But I’ll let the Corporate Downsizer story die—“Up in the Air” is perfect as is.)

So, if you know anyone who has a unique or unusual job, pick their brains. Talk to them. Engage them in conversation. I guarantee they’ve got some awesome stories to tell. And you just might learn a thing or two.

Once you’re done, you’ll sent them my way, won’t you?

Win An Autographed Copy of THE CITY OF LOST SECRETS

If you're a GoodReads member, hop on over to their website and enter to win a copy of my latest novel, The City of Lost Secrets. I'm giving away two autographed copies to two lucky people! The deadline is next Friday 12/9.  Makes for an awesome Christmas gift for the reader in your life.

 
 

    Goodreads Book Giveaway
 

 
   
   

     
       
     
   

   
   

     

       
          The City of Lost Secrets
       
     

     

       
          by Katie McVay
       
     

     
     

       
         
            Giveaway ends December 09, 2011.
         

         
            See the giveaway details
            at Goodreads.
         

       
     

   

   

   
   
      Enter to win
   
   
 

Does The TSA's 3 oz. Liquid Rule Still Hold Water?

I recently returned from a trip to Ireland, which I find to be one of the easiest European countries to travel to. You can fly there non-stop from Philly and the New York airports in as little as six hours, and because Ireland is a very popular American tourist destination, you can sail through customs without hassle.

Flying home from Ireland couldn’t be any easier either. The major airports in Dublin and Shannon have U.S. Customs kiosks right there in the airport; U.S. officials stamp your passport and essentially welcome you back to the U.S. before you’ve even boarded your home-bound flight, eliminating the need for your travel-weary butt to wait in a long customs queue on the other side.

Because of the ease with which I’ve traveled to Ireland in the past, I didn’t even worry when my father (who traveled with us this time) bought two large bottles of Irish whiskey at the Shannon Airport last minute before boarding our flight. As predicted, airline officials waved him and his Paddy onto the plane with no problem.

Talk about a system that works and is user-friendly. (Now how come the rest of the country can’t get its arse in gear?)

So when I recently read about a woman whose husband had an issue returning home from Rome with a few bottles of wine, it got me thinking a little more closely about traveling with liquids. I’ve flown enough to know by heart the TSA’s 3 oz. rule; I can recite it as easily as the Star-Spangled Banner. But I’m a light packer and try to avoid bringing liquids home with me, let alone booze, so I’ve never found myself in a similar situation. Plus, my father had had no problem with his whiskey. So I was curious: what had gone wrong with this poor sap and his wine?

The husband in the story seemed to do everything right. He’d bought the wine at a duty-free shop after clearing security at the Rome airport; the bottles were sealed in tamper-free, see-through plastic bags; and he carried them on the plane, as Roman officials instructed him to do. His layover in London’s Heathrow Airport passed without incident. But the husband had another layover to contend with, a domestic one in Dallas-Fort Worth. And this is where he had trouble.

TSA agents at Dallas-Fort Worth told the husband he’d have to check the bottles of wine for his final flight home to Santa Monica, California.

Seriously? So he’d flown almost six thousand miles with bottles of wine essentially in his lap, but for the short 1500 mile flight from Dallas to Santa Monica, he’d have to check them? Yes, and all because of the TSA’s 3 oz. rule, which says you absolutely cannot carry any container of liquid larger than 3 oz. onto a plane originating in the U.S., no matter the destination. (As of this writing, baby products and medical supplies are an exception.) That left the poor guy with three options: pitch the bottles of wine, check them, or have one hell of a party at the airport before his final flight home.

The husband chose to check the wine, and to the airline’s credit, they were helpful with his decision.

But still, the TSA’s liquid rule is confusing and maddening. That’s because the rule raises questions that allow for no simple answers,  has rare exceptions that most people can’t utilize, and is fraught with loopholes that make sense only to the TSA’s brand of logic.

For starters, the TSA’s 3-1-1 liquid rule for carry on luggage goes like this: each passenger is allowed one (1) clear plastic zip-top bag, sized one (1) quart, filled with three (3) ounce bottles (or less) of liquid. Sounds simple enough, right?

But what’s your definition of liquid? Hairspray, glass cleaner, contact lens solution? Obviously liquids. But what about toothpaste? Toothpaste is more of a gel, but the TSA considers it a liquid, so into the quart bag it must go. Same with your hair gel, deodorant and fabric stain stick. All considered liquids. And how are you supposed to fit all your “liquids” into one itty-biddy quart bag? Most people can’t. Guess what? More shit for you to stuff into your checked luggage.

(Here’s one “liquid” that you’re banned from carrying on a plane that most people don’t think of: gel shoe inserts. My husband wears these everyday except on days when he’s traveling. Too much of a hassle to travel with, so he goes without.)

Now, if the subject of the story didn’t need to go through security again in Dallas en route to Santa Monica, he would’ve been in the clear; he probably would’ve been allowed to carry those bottles of wine onto his domestic flight. That’s because the 3 oz. rule is a TSA rule, not the airlines’ or airports’ rule. Without a security checkpoint, who’s to stop him? He could tuck those bottles of wine into a carry-on bag and no gate agent, flight attendant, or any other airline or airport rep would even know. But he did have to go through security again upon arriving from Heathrow (as well as Customs), so he was nabbed by agents and told no way, Jose. He’d have to check that wine or throw it away.

And if the bottles of wine were 3 oz. or less per container? Well, that’s perfectly fine, as long as the bottles would’ve fit inside his one-quart bag. He would’ve been able to sail through security because the wine falls within the TSA’s magic 3-1-1 scenario. But if the 3 oz. bottles of wine didn’t fit inside his zip-top quart bag, he’d be back to where he started. He’d have to check the tiny bottles or throw them away; he’d be adhering to one part of the rule, while breaking another, and that’s a no-no. With the TSA, it’s all or nothing.

Confused yet?  I know, I know. See how maddening the rule can be? The TSA claims it’s working on software that will someday make it possible for us to once again carry liquids onto a plane, thus abolishing the 3-1-1 rule that even the organization itself admits it’s tired of justifying. They even want to get to a point where passengers will be able to keep their shoes on. What a happy day that’ll be. But of course that day isn’t here yet, so what’s a weary passenger to do? Whether it’s wine or whiskey, perfume or stain stick, how can you avoid the 3-1-1 madness?

First off, try like hell to get a non-stop flight. That’s tough to do if you’re flying to/from some far-flung or hard-to-reach area, or if you live in the middle of nowhere. But if you live within a few hours’ drive of a larger airport, like Dulles, Philadelphia, O’Hare, Newark, JFK or LAX, it’s decidedly easier, because those large airports have tons of non-stop, round-trip flights all over the world. (My husband and I flew non-stop from Newark to Beijing in 2009; it was a chaotic three-hour drive to New Jersey and then a grueling 14-hour flight, but it was worth not having to layover or change planes.)  Suck it up and drive to/from a larger airport, staying overnight if need be, to reap the benefits of a non-stop flight. You won’t have to worry about missing a connection, for one thing. But more on topic, you’ll be able to bring home larger containers of liquid without worry (if you’re flying home from an international destination, that is.)

If a non-stop flight isn’t an option (and even if it is), consider buying the liquid toiletries you need once you reach your destination, if possible. On the flip side, on the return flight home, throw out any and all liquids you no longer need before packing your bags. Also, if you absolutely must have that bottle of Paddy Irish whiskey (like my dad did, because it’s not sold in the States) consider having it shipped home. And of course, you could always wait until you get home to buy your booze—or not buy any booze at all.

But what fun would that be?

Got a nightmare TSA or 3-1-1 story you’d like to share? Let’s hear ‘em! While you’re at it, sign up to receive all my travel-related blog posts. They’re frequent enough to keep you in the know, but not too frequent that they clog up your in-box. Sign up to the right.

Questions Are More Important To Writers Than Praise--At Least To This Writer

**FIRST, A NEWS FLASH**: I’ve now made it possible for you to buy my novel, THE CITY OF LOST SECRETS, directly from me. Simply click on the "Buy Now" button and use your credit card. The transaction will take place through PayPal, which is completely safe and secure, and you don't even need a PayPal account to make the purchase. In the long run it’s cheaper than buying it through Amazon, because Amazon charges shipping and I won't. The book will come directly from me--no taxes charged, no shipping costs tacked on, no strings attached. Plus, you'll have the option of receiving an autographed copy. If you’re interested, simply click on the link to the right. **END OF NEWS FLASH**

Second, a thank you. I’ve gotten some awesomely positive reviews of the book, and I can’t thank you enough. I’m so fortunate to have such dedicated readers, who’ve taken time away from their busy schedules to read my novel. And I’d also like to give a shout out to my personal “team” of salesman who’ve worked tirelessly to get the word out about the book. You know who you are… Thank you all so very much!

You know, upon the release of the novel, I hoped that readers would be engaged enough to not just say “great job” or “nice book” or “I liked it” and truly give me feedback that I could use for future installments and to make me a better writer. I was fortunate enough to get it, and then some. I received positive reinforcement and critical analysis and even suggestions for the next book in the series. How awesome is that?

And I also got something else that a writer sometimes can only dream of: questions.

You see, all writers want to hear that readers liked their book, thought it was well researched, kept them up all night, yadda yadda yadda. Those kinds of comments give us goose bumps. It means we’re doing our jobs well. Don’t get us wrong—writers love those types of comments! In fact, keep ‘em coming! But you know what’s even better than praise to a writer? Questions.

If a writer asks a reader if they liked their book, and the reader starts asking questions, then the writer knows they’re on to something. They’ve struck a nerve. They’ve connected with that reader somehow. They’ve engaged the reader enough that they’re past the “I liked your book” pleasantries and on to wanting to know more—what inspired the book, who did you interview, what type of research did you do, etc.

I wasn’t so bold as to expect to get questions from readers, but of course I hoped I would. And the top three questions I hoped I’d get asked were:

1. Is the book autobiographical?

2. Who did the artwork?

3. When’s the sequel coming out?

I wanted these three questions most of all because it meant readers were paying attention to the characters as well as the plot, they appreciate a quality book cover when they see it, and they enjoyed the book enough to want to read more. As I see it, those are the three most important qualities in a book. Did you like the cover enough to pick it up, were you invested in the character’s lives and draw possible connections to their creator (the writer), and did you love the book enough to immediately want to find out what happens next? Answers to these questions are like a litmus test for a writer to determine if we’ve done our job. A yes to all three questions is like a goldmine. A no means we have some work to do.

Luckily, those were the top three questions I was asked. Whew! That meant I’d felt I succeeded in giving readers the complete package, a totally-immersive reading experience. What a relief! You liked it! You really liked it!

There are flaws of course, and the book is by no means perfect, but it was as close to perfect as I could make it at the time.

So, was the book autobiographical? Partly. I’ll let you figure out what parts....

Who did the artwork? An awesome dude named Stan Tremblay with FindTheAxis.com.

When’s the sequel coming out? Summer 2012 (fingers crossed).

So while those were the most commonly asked questions, there were three others that were asked frequently enough to be printed here. They were:

Did you travel to Jerusalem for research? 

I wish, but no. But I will get there some day.

Did you interview professors or biblical scholars? 

No, I didn’t interview anyone. I could have spent time tracking down experts, but honestly, I didn’t think they’d take me seriously enough as a writer to want to talk with me. So I did the next best thing: I read every book by key experts in the fields of biblical archeology, the New Testament, first-century Roman occupied Jerusalem, and the life of Jesus.

What inspired you to tackle a controversial subject for your debut novel?

Stupidity? No, seriously. I’ve been fascinated by biblical history since I was a teenager. Don’t ask me why—it’s a long story. I knew tackling a sensitive subject involving perhaps the most controversial figure ever could end my career before it even began. Most writers start off with more commercial fare and build their name to the point where they can publish whatever the hell they want. Dan Brown’s DaVinci Code always comes to mind. That novel was actually his third published book. I did it ass-backwards. I started and stopped three novels—ones I was sure could catapult my career--before starting to write The City of Lost Secrets. The decision quite possibly cost me an agent and a fine career as a traditionally published author, but I got to the point where I didn’t care. The City of Lost Secrets was too deep-seated in my brain to let it go and I believed in it too much. We’ll see if the decision to self-publish pays off. Based on the positive feedback I’ve gotten, I’d say it has.

There ya go, the six most common questions I’ve been getting about the book. Got any other burning questions about the book you’re dying to have answered? What? Whaddya mean you haven’t read the book yet? Shame shame. Hop on over to Amazon, B&N.com or right here on my website and buy yourself a copy. Read it and email me what you think. Better yet, post a review on Amazon.

Got a Kindle e-book version you want me to autograph? Surf on over to http://kindlegraph.com/authors/ktmcvay and send an KindleGraph request. It’s easy and free!

 

This post is dedicated to James Neary, who would’ve turned 101 today. He was a hell of a guy who had a dream to live to be 100 years old. He did, then quietly passed away four months later. You are missed, dear Pop-Pop.

Is Flying The Friendly Skies Safer Post 9/11?

On this, the ten-year anniversary of 9/11, we will, as a nation, mourn the loss of thousands of souls who perished on that fateful day. There will be memorials and remembrances and celebrations and lots and lots of tears shed. Today is all about the lives lost and the families affected.

 But in the days and weeks following the anniversary, the conversations will turn from emotional to political, from how we’ve healed as a nation to are we prepared for another attack?

The answer to that question is yes. But…

Of course there’s a but.

While flying the friendly skies may be safer than ever, it has come at a cost: safety procedures that test passenger patience and push the boundaries of personal privacy.

Say what you will about the occasionally stupid stuff that the TSA has done (pat downs for babies, anyone?), the federal organization has played a huge part in making airport security better. Don’t believe me? Then you’ve got a short memory.

Pre-9/11, airport security was bad. Abysmally so. Airport security was left up to private contractors, some with less-than-stellar stats. Convicted felons were hired as security screeners. Checked luggage was hardly if ever screened for explosives. People with outstanding arrest warrants were entrusted with keeping airports safe. Lax screeners allowed 20% of dangerous objects to pass through checkpoints. Performance was low and so were salaries; in 2001, agents were paid less than the starting salaries at airport fast-food restaurants. Naturally, turnover was high.

Then the TSA came in and put a few changes in place. Federalizing airport security lowered worker turnover from 125% per year to 6.4%. Professionalizing airport security meant better employees with higher salaries and enhanced screening that resulted in increased passenger safety. Gone were the “rent-a-goons” employed by private contractors that ran amok unscrutinized at our nation’s airports. Here to stay is a professional (albeit impersonal) federally-mandated organization that is not immune to public pressure. It’s an organization that continues to evolve as new threats come in.

That’s the good news.

Now, the bad.

A lot of people would argue that the introduction of the TSA has come at a huge cost—the surrender of personal comfort and privacy. Patdowns, luggage searches, shoe-removals, liquid bans. The rules continue to change and passengers struggle to keep up.

But are ever-evolving “nude-o-scans” and shoe-removal policies really that much worse than the incompetent and corrupt airport security companies that were in place before the TSA came along?

A little more than fifty percent of Americans say yes, I’ve sacrificed too much in order to achieve an increased sense of security. But 81% of Americans feel more safe at airports overall. What does that mean? Well, I guess it means that most Americans simply deal with the inconveniences that make airline travel safer (which says nothing of accepting the inconveniences), and the rest of Americans either don’t travel or don’t give enough of a shit to weigh in.

But if a shoe bomber had succeeded in the aftermath of the original shoe bomber Richard Reed’s failure because we hadn’t instituted the removal of shoes at security? What then? Well, there most certainly would have been public outcry that the TSA hadn’t done its job. “Why didn’t the TSA make the bomber take off his shoes?” national headlines would say. “Why isn’t there a shoe-removal policy at our country’s airports to prevent such tragedies?”

Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

But keep this in mind: we haven’t had another successful terrorist attack on American soil since 9/11.

So I ask you: Is impersonal customer-service and a sense of dehumanization worth it if it means saving your life?  Or can we strike a balance between safety and comfort?

No E-Reader? No Problem! My Books Will Always Be Available In Print

As a writer, I thought publishing my novels as e-books on Amazon’s Kindle was the way to go.

“Everyone has an e-reader, and most of them have Kindles,” they said. “Serious readers have Kindles and you should market to them,” they said further.

They being the self-publishing experts, and the novelists who were already making their work available as ebooks and apparently making good livings. So who was I to argue? They were walking the walk, so to speak, they were super successful, and were selfless enough to share the secrets of their own success. And the secret seemed to be: push out ebook after ebook for Kindle, price them low enough to attract lots of readers, and market the shit out them using social media. Rinse and repeat.

I read about writers who were selling thousands of ebooks a month and pulling in four figures a month. People like JA Konrath. John Locke. Karen McQuestion. Amanda Hocking. Ruth Morrison.

They’ve all found success publishing to Kindle almost exclusively. Some of them have gone on to find traditional publishing deals. And all of them are doing very well for themselves.

As ebook publishers, they have no overhead because there’s no print book and therefore no printing costs or inventory.

They need very little upfront money to get ebooks published because hiring an expert to convert a manuscript and create a cover costs maybe a hundred bucks each. And if you do it yourself of course it’s free.

Tons of readers. Oodles of devoted fans. Very little upfront cash needed. Pure profit. That’s what I was being promised—as long as my book was good and I marketed like hell.

The successful authors I mentioned didn’t start out that way, of course. At first, they were selling dozens a month, but persistence and years of practice and savvy marketing pushed them ahead of the crowd to a place where they could write full-time. It took a lot of time away from writing, and more time marketing, but eventually they were able to reap the rewards. Most of them are now selling thousands of ebooks a month.

How awesome for them!   

Despite the drawbacks (less time writing, more time marketing) this sounded like a business model I wanted to get involved in.

So I hopped onboard about eight months ago and never second-guessed my decision to “go indie.” I ceased looking for an agent and decided to self-publish my writing as e-books.

Then a curious thing happened.

As I started going about the e-publishing process, I started asking everyone I knew and lots of people I didn’t if they had a Kindle. Or any other kind of e-reader. And the overwhelming majority of them said no. They didn’t have an e-reader and didn’t think they would buy one anytime soon. The readers in the bunch purchase print books, they like the simplicity that comes with owning print books, and oh by the way, they asked, when’s your book coming out in print?

I had to break the news to them that I was publishing ebooks only. In my mind, that equated to lost sales. I might have to do something about that. But more on that in a minute.

As predicted, my close friends and family wanted print books. But even the strangers and people I didn’t know too well expressed interest in a print book.

Huh. Go figure.

That went against everything I’d read about. About how while the publishing industry had expanded over all, print sales had been in steady decline. Mass-market paperback sales—those cheap, pulpy books you find in drug stores and airports—for example, had fallen 14 percent since 2008. A once robust paper-based industry was slowly being eaten away at by the digital revolution. Ebooks were chewing up the competition.

And it made sense why. Reading can be an expensive hobby. Hardbacks are priced at about $25, trade paperbacks at about $12 - $15. Voracious readers can easily plow through two, three, even four books a month, which means someone who liked to read a lot could easily drop $100 a month on books. That’s a lot of coin.

With the advent of ebooks, readers no longer had to purchase expensive hardbacks or wait for the discounted trade paperback. Within a matter of minutes, they can download a dozen novels to their e-readers for less than twenty bucks. Naturally, readers of the voracious and budget-watching variety embraced the technology. It was a natural fit.

But that’s not what I’m experiencing…

I asked a woman at work, whom I know to be a big reader, how many books she read a month. About two or three, she said. She doesn’t have an e-reader and doesn’t plan on purchasing one anytime soon. She prefers trade paperback but if it’s a writer she really likes (Sue Grafton, say), then she’ll spend the dough for the hardback in order to get it as soon as it’s released. Her house is full of books, most of which she doesn’t have the heart to get rid of. She doesn’t mind spending more money on a paper book and only shrugs at the thought of a house crammed floor to ceiling with them.

I asked professional contacts, people I usually only talk shop with, if they read novels and if so, if they preferred ebooks or print books. The overwhelming majority didn’t have e-readers; they preferred print books.

I dispatched friends and family members to ask their contacts (people I didn’t know) about ebooks vs. print books. Most of them still read books; no e-reader for them. One 40ish woman even was quoted as saying, “What’s a Kindle?”

Of the two dozen or so people who were asked, a whopping five had e-readers. Five! That certainly flies in the face of the experts who claimed that nobody reads books anymore. (Of course, some of them gave up reading altogether because of time and money constraints, but still…)

So while I don’t doubt that e-readers are here to stay, my independent research indicated that maybe they’re not catching on as quickly as all the experts claim they have.

Either that, or the print-book-reading people that were interviewed (most of them fellow Pennsylvanians) are way behind the times. Maybe Pennsylvania in general is way behind the times and slow to embrace new technologies.

If that’s the case, where are all these supposed Kindle and Nook nuts? Where are they hiding? My ebook novel, The City of Lost Secrets, has been on sale for a month now, and I’ve sold 22 copies. Nothing to shake a stick at (especially since I haven’t done too much marketing) but not exactly the first month goal of 25 I was aiming for. I’ve had almost as many people express interest in the print book. Which is the opposite of what the experts told me would happen.

Granted, I haven’t done a lot of publicity, because I’ve been too busy writing the second book, and because the experts told me to wait until I have at least three or four books written before I start branding myself and promoting my books. Which makes sense, because if someone really likes your book, you want to have more than just the one available for them. Plus, the experts also told me that I could expect first- and second-month sales to be low, because it takes time for the “Amazon algorithm” to kick in and word of mouth to spread. If what the experts say is true, I won’t begin seeing truly decent sales of my ebook until about the nine month mark.

But given that the opposite of what the experts are saying is happening to me, then maybe I’ll start seeing success with my ebook sooner than nine months. And I can expect to sell more print books than ebooks.

Which is why the print version of The City of Lost Secrets is now available in print version on Amazon. (You can buy it here.) It cost me a hell of a lot of money to make it available, but in the end it was worth it. That’s because becoming an ebook writer millionaire like John Locke was never my main goal, anyway. All I really want to do is tell a great story using likeable and relatable characters. Whether it makes me a millionaire or barely brings me back into the black makes no difference. It would’ve been worth it either way.

Because what matters most is putting out a good product and making my readers happy.

Therefore, from here on out, until we run out of trees and paper goes extinct, I’ll continue to fly in the face of the experts and have print books available for all my novels.

So there.

Was a Famous Artist's Controversial Depiction of Jesus Intentional?

Would you believe me if I said the guy in the painting below is Jesus? 

Well, it is, or it’s supposed to be, as envisioned by the great 17^th century Dutch master Rembrandt van Rijn.

The painting was created sometime between 1648-1656, was one in a series of “Head of Christ” paintings, and was found in the artist’s home after he died. And now it, along with other paintings, prints and drawings, can be seen in the Philadelphia Museum of Art’s “Rembrandt and the Face of Jesus” exhibit.

You may wonder what’s so special about the drawing above. Well, take a look at another one in the series of “Head of Christ” paintings.

You may be saying, “That’s not Jesus! That looks like an average bloke.”

And therein lies Rembrandt’s genius…

You see, most of us are used to iconic images of Christ. Something like this:

Or this:

 

And perhaps one of the most popular depictions of Jesus:

Now take another look at Rembrandt’s Head of Christ:

See anything missing? How about the halo, the crown of thorns, the flowing robe, the throngs of followers… In the above picture, Jesus looks like an average dude because, well, he was an average dude. (At least at first.)

And that’s what’s brilliant about Rembrandt. By depicting Jesus as an average man with a human face, Rembrandt turned the entire history of Christian art—one accustomed to rigid prototypical depictions of Jesus--on its head. No other artist up until this point had broken this tradition. Rembrandt was the first. 

Kinda ballsy, right?

It’s hard to imagine this being such a controversial thing, but in 17^th century Europe, it was quite a bold move for the iconoclastic Rembrandt to take. He lived during the Renaissance, a movement devoted to Christianity, especially in art. The Church patronized the arts, the result of which was roughly three hundred years of “traditional” depictions of biblical themes.

So now here was this Dutch dude, looking to break with tradition and depict the most famous of icons…as an average man?

That’s some radical stuff! That would kinda be like Stephen Hawking announcing that Earth was indeed the center of the solar system. Can you imagine the backlash such a claim would create?

But was Rembrandt’s break with traditional intentional, or just the natural progression of an artist? Did he mean to be controversial—or just realistic?

First, let’s not forget that Jesus was Jewish. We know that Rembrandt lived among a growing Jewish community in his native Amsterdam, and that he was highly influenced by their life and culture. And we know that Jewish people were often the subject of many a drawing and sketch, and that such artwork by Rembrandt grew and evolved over time as he educated himself about Jewish history. Knowing this, we can draw the conclusion that eventually the Jewish population provided more than just subject matter; it provided patrons…and people who would pose for him so that he may more realistically depict their life and culture.

There’s no doubt that Rembrandt used a live (Jewish) model in which to depict his "Head of Christ" series of paintings.

So was there a little piece of Rembrandt that wanted to shake things up, upend tradition and get people talking by depicting Jesus in a non-traditional way? Certainly. But more than likely, the “Head of Christ” paintings are a product of an artist’s surroundings, an attempt to show a realistic portrait of the most influential man that western civilization has ever known.

The “Rembrandt and the Face of Jesus” exhibit runs through October 30, 2011. Go see it because it’s the first Rembrandt exhibit to set foot in Philadelphia since 1932. Go see it because it’s exceedingly rare (Rembrandt never intended for most of the collection to see the light of day). Go see it because seven of the paintings in the exhibit are being reunited for the first time since they were found in 1656. And go see it because it is artistically, historically and culturally significant.

For information see the Philadelphia Museum of Art’swebsite.