“Yes or Hell, No?” On Writing for Exposure

In an ideal world, all artists would be paid for all their work.

We do not live in an ideal world.

Any writer can tell you how hard it is to get fairly compensated for the work you do. Even a short story can take a long time to do well: maybe a week or two, maybe several months. Once you calculate the hours it takes to get a short story ready to sell (for up to $200-300—if you

Finding Your Editor

(Warning: This post is pretty long, cause it turns out I have a lot to say.)

In the debate over traditional versus indie publishing, one of the arguments I’ve seen pop up on the “go trad” side is that one doesn’t have to hire an editor. The publisher already has editors on staff, and therefore that part of the job is done. Finding an editor is just too hard.

I’d reply that finding an editor is not

What Rappers Can Teach Writers

Recently, I watched Something from Nothing: the Art of Rap, Ice-T’s first documentary. It’s on—you guessed it—the art of rap, and it brings in some of the biggest and most respected names in the business to talk about how they craft and refine their art. (It’s on Netflix and Amazon and everywhere else, so see it. It’s pretty amazing.)

As I watched, it occurred to me that so many of the insights these artists

2013: My Year in Writing

(Note: unless you're a pal, or deeply interested in the minutae of my publishing path, this post might bore you a lot. Consider not reading any further...)

Last January, I dubbed 2013 my Year of Getting S#!t Published. Now this year is almost done. How did I do? Well…

Let me complicate things immediately by noting that I write under two names, my own, and a pen name for my romances.

For anyone paying attention, romance is pretty popular

a festive punch in the face

This is not Santa. Oh, no. It is an imposter. The bland expression, the wise but hopeless gaze. It must be Brian Peterka! One of the several talented artist friends I am privileged to know, Brian sometimes indulges in a bit of seasonal whimsy...his way. This flat ornament arrived in the form of a christmas card. The card instructed me to punch Brian's face out, jab a hook though his head, and hang him. So I did. Merry Christmas

Simple.

I do not lack for charming carved wooden tchotchkes. I'm not even sure where they all came from, other than family. I don't remember ever not seeing this little woodland diorama somewhere in my childhood home. I always liked the tiny fawn, the neatly stacked logs, the pine trees. It's not Christmassy, except by association. 

But the population of little handcrafted German things was way higher at my Uncle Dick and Aunt Helga's home. Walking into that house