Great day in the morning! This has been a big week here at Knowingly Undersold. First, after years of pretty infrequent writing, we reached that previously unimaginable tally of 1/8th of a million reads, and then we were nominated for Most Influential Blogger! My cup runneth over! Now, you may be taken aback at the unabashed navel gazing going on here, as this isn’t typically the sort of work we’re cranking out here at Sexy Architects and Norman Invasion Tales ‘R’ Us. But as the recognition and milestones are starting to pile up, I feel it is time to address the state of affairs here K.U. Continue reading
Tag Archives: Writing
Sure, the Bible sequel didn’t pan out. Seems the church wasn’t willing to sponsor the project and adamantly refused to do weekly readings from the new “good book.” Fine. I can live with it. Also, editing the new book with a million covers and titles has proven disheartening, and the publisher is prepared to just call it Swill and release it without my approval. You know what? That’s fine, too. Cause I’ve concocted my surest firest success yet.
Yep, I’m going to get into the world of crank-‘em-out mystery novels. You know the kind – woman in her forties goes into a bookstore, says to herself that she’s looking for something that “looks like something I’d read.” They hit upon the mystery section – bingo! – find a book that seems to have a pattern in its title, almost guaranteeing an extended trip with the same characters down non surprising roads for many books to come, and next thing you know, this slightly pre-menopausal lady is out on the back porch, reading about some taxidermist getting himself stuffed in a department store, populated by wacky employees, and bringing in a wacky detective with wacky neuroses, making for interesting reading and light, fluffy evenings of enjoyment.
How hard could it possibly be? I’ve never even considered writing a mystery novel, but honestly, it’s gotta be ridiculously easy. I’ve read a few of the cheesy variety and you don’t even need a twisty plot. All it requires is a quirky enough detective and a catchy title. So let’s formulate this strategy. Continue reading
With 85,000 words down and only 10,000 or so to go, I figured it was time to start throwing out titles for the new book, just to see what the brass thought. The last one went through dozens of names before we (mostly) agreed on The Sunshine Man, even though in retrospect something more appealing to the public should probably have been sought. I say this as I still have two thousand copies of Sunshine sitting in a garage I rent out for the purpose in Wyalusing, PA. If you want one, just go grab it. I leave the padlock undone on purpose, so there’s no need to call the cops. Take as many as you like.
Anyway, this book naming business has long been my Achilles’ heel, and as this new book doesn’t have a snappy character or town name that immediately would lend itself to front the tale, I’ve had to go through a great many volleys with the people at Histrionic Press, my publisher. Here is where we’ve been so far: Continue reading
Famed author. Presidential candidate. Teen Wolf enthusiast. With all these titles under my belt, and all these planned-for accomplishments piling up like forgotten mail, what else could I possibly have room on my dance card for in the coming weeks, months, and years? What psychotically huge and controversial project could I sink my teeth into for anywhere from one to three hours a month for the remainder of my life? Well, it’s a doozy. A writing project, a writing challenge, and it’s a sequel to something I didn’t begin.
“What a hack!” you are undoubtedly muttering to the kid next to you at Starbucks, upon the reading of this. Well leave that kid alone. He doesn’t care for your hullabaloo anymore than I do, and that ain’t much, sister. It’s not like I’ve decided to tackle an unauthorized Harry Potter 8, or the fourth of The Three Musketeers, or Mobiest Dick, no no. What I have in mind is much grander, and steeped in that noblest of all pursuits – straight cash, homey. Continue reading
Over the years while writing, or more often reading, I’ve run across a select group of words that I just don’t care for. For the most part it’s nothing I have personal against the words. They never stole my woman or cheated me at cards or lured me into a van with candy as a boy. No, it’s more the manner in which they were foisted on me that grinds my gears.
There are things in this world that I absolutely hate, but the words naming them aren’t necessarily words I can’t tolerate. Panda is a fine example of this. As some of you may know, I hate pandas with all the passion normally reserved by the American male for the NFL, Coors Light, and Las Vegas. I abhor pandas. I can’t stand them. Their entire existence and society’s insistence that it continues despite any bit of interest in it displayed by the fluffy ignoramuses boggles my mind. But the word panda itself isn’t verboten with me. Hell, I liked Kung Fu Panda quite a bit. Continue reading