#terribleminds.com

This is my second run at reviewing “The Blue Blazes” by Chuck Wendig. 

The first go-around was right after I finished reading it at a breakneck pace. I gushed a bunch of praise juice all over the Amazon.com review section for the book and I’m not sure that ever does anyone any good, though one person has since found it helpful.

Two weeks removed, I wouldn’t take back any of that praise. The book is solid; technically sound writing, excellent pacing and character development and interesting content. I would recommend this book to anyone who enjoys fiction.

A few things that struck me (in no particular order):

1. Mookie Pearl, our protagonist, at no time seems like a one-dimensional thug or enforcer, though he is consistently seen as such by other characters in the story. Within the first twenty pages you give a damn about him and his world, as dark and sinister as it is. He also strikes me as a reincarnation of The Butcher from the Diablo series, walking some kind of path of redemption. A monster of a man trying to make his way in a dark reflection of our world.

2. Every character is deeper than they seem to the characters around them and we get little glimpses of how they are under the surface. They develop well throughout the story.

3. The world building is subtle and amazing. The journal entries that open each chapter add to the mythos of the darker New York City where Mookie makes his living off the titular Blue Blazes. Chuck gives you just enough and leaves room for your imagination to fill in the dark corners. Every little inch of city doesn’t need to be defined. Leaving that space gives the reader room to make the world their own, one of the key selling points of books over movies or video games.

4. A lot of people criticize Chuck Wendig regarding his use of profanity in reviews I’ve seen of his work. He’s very creative with it both on the Twitter and over at terribleminds.com, but I didn’t think it was at all gratuitous in The Blue Blazes. In fact, for the setting (mobsters and monsters), I thought it seemed somewhat light on the profanity. I guess I’ll have to dig a little deeper into his body of work before passing a blanket judgement on his average one-star reviewer, but I don’t think it was anywhere near what people make it out to be. Some folks just need something to bitch about and taking at shot at colorful language is an easy target.

All in all this is a fantastic read and I was sorry it ended. Nothing was left hanging so much that the book doesn’t stand well on its own, but there’s enough mystery in Mookie’s world that I can’t wait for the next tale (The Bloody Bride) to spill forth from Chuck’s brain.

Once I clear out a few more things from my to-be-read pile (a pile in only the loosest sense of the term, as they’re mostly digital nowadays) I’ll be picking up Chuck’s “Gods and Monsters: Unclean Spirits”. It looks to be another fun-filled ride.

If you want to give it a read, I've linked The Blue Blazes below. No one is paying me or anything, I'm just making your life a little easier if you want to get the book.

Friday was much the same as Thursday. If this were an Edgar Wright film, it would be snap cuts of: Marty gets out of bed. Turns on shower. Wakes up. Coffee. Button Down Shirt. Drive. Bus. BEA. Pants in there somewhere.

Met with my friends in line again, and felt much more confident as I walked into the open aired bookatorium of the Javits Center. After making the rounds, I immediately got on line for Bill Bryson and his new book, where I met up with my friend Molly, and made some new ones.

Bill was very kind and I hope he enjoyed the baseball game he was headed off to later.

I ran over to see Rick Atkinson and grabbed two copies of his newest book for myself and my Dad. And from that, I just sort of moseyed around, saying hello to folks I'd met earlier, and enjoying the atmosphere.

Had lunch with Molly and Natalie, so that was good. Real food and good company are always wonderful.

And when they went off to get Pinkberry (whatever secret thing that may be), I popped on line for Ellen Datlow's signing of one of her new anthologies. And she remembered me, which was a pleasant surprise! Got a lovely bi-ink signature from Ellen in a beautiful copy of Queen Victoria's Book of Spells. If you haven't checked it out yet, please do. It's a great looking book, packed to the brim with even better stories.

From there, I popped over to a signing with Samantha Shannon, a young author whose first book, The Bone Season, is getting very positive buzz. Hell, she's already got a movie deal from Andy Serkis, so I suppose things are going well.

She was very sweet, if a little shy and jet-lagged, but it was nice meeting an author around my age, giving me that confidence boost/slight jealous motivation/kick in the ass, that we can make it so young. Just gotta keep writing.

One of the prizes I lucked on at BEA was this, my next mission:

I waited in line for about 40 minutes and managed to get a copy of Neil Gaiman's new kids book. It looks fantastic, and Skottie Young's artwork is fun as hell.

From there, I went and said hello to Jim Hines at the SFWA booth, and then packed it up, for I had adventures in Brooklyn to get to!

#

Navigating the cobblestones and hipsterbricks of Brooklyn, I finally stumbled upon Singularity and Co., a cozy little store-in-the-wall, of used and vintage scifi/fantasy books. Chuck Wendig, he of Terribleminds fame, was having a book signing for his new book, The Blue Blazes.

It was a very nice group of people. I got to meet and chat with many talented and awesome folks, among them: Michael Underwood (in his awesome blue-blazes-esque tie) from Angry Robot and author of Geekomancy, the very lovely Joelle Charbonneau (whose new YA book, The Testing just came out, go read it!), the ever gentleman-ly John Hornor Jacobs, he of Southern Gods and Twelve-Fingered Boy fame, acclaimed crime writer Hilary Davidson, who had managed to sneak out from edits, the very kind and intelligent agent Stacia Decker, who represented many of the people there, and of course, Mr. Terribleminds himself, Chuck Wendig!

He and I have emailed a bit, I let him know about my story in Fireside Magazine and he was incredibly supportive of me. His writing and his blog have been some of the biggest inspirations to me, so it was really great getting a chance to meet him in the flesh.

Not only did he sign some of my books, hell, he gave me a candy bar since it was my birthday. What a stand up guy, even if it did turn out to be a giant bar of Bolivian Black Tar Heroin, (his words, not mine). Thanks again, Chuck!

(We are two snazzy, bearded fellows.)

And once the wine was gone, and the charcuterie plate devoured, we all went our separate ways, and I headed back home, very tired but very happy.

#

It was a really great time that week, meeting so many wonderful authors, agents, editors, and other folks who work in the industry. They were all incredibly kind and supportive and happy to talk about their work and anything else I might bug them about.

Self-doubt is the enemy of the writer. It is most certainly one of the worst, if not the worst, in the writer’s rogue gallery of nemeses. You let self-doubt get a hold of you, it’ll kill your work dead.

You mustn't be seduced by the callous whispers of the doubting monster at your back. To survive as a writer you must wheel on the beast, your sharpened pen at hand. Then you must spear him to the earth.

We’re All Part Of The Self-Hatred Quilt Self-doubt has the singular power to make you feel very alone indeed [but] you’re not alone. We all get it. The difference is that some writers pull their boots out of the hungry mire and others sink deeper and deeper until they’re caught in an inescapable nest of old Druid bones.

Time And Practice Are Two Of Doubt’s Mightiest Foes Sometimes self-doubt comes from a real place, a revelation that you’re just not ready. The problem isn't this revelation but rather how writers react to it. The reaction is: OMG NOT GOOD ENOUGH MUST EJECT OR DIE. What a terribly unproductive reaction. Or, more accurately, over-reaction. You’re not going to be perfect right out of the gate. Time and practice will improve your mojo, and an improved sense of one’s mojo will go a long way toward mitigating doubt.

Validation Comes From Within Don’t go looking for validation elsewhere. Don’t look for it from friends, loved ones, publishers, editors, agents, mailmen, or cats. External validation isn't a bad thing. It just isn't what you need. Because it matters little that they believe in you if you don’t believe in yourself.

Photo from interfacelift.com

The boy sat in the old cast iron tub with hot water up to his chest, yet he shuddered when an icy chill danced across his neck. He put his hand up to the adjacent window that was slightly cracked, but noticed no breeze. He thought perhaps that the lights above the sink flickered, just barely, moments before. “It’s just my imagination. It’s just my imagination. It’s just my imagination,” he began to whisper to himself. He wasn’t sure he believed it, but it was what his mother often told him. 

Great and entertaining read about the current state of publishing, as it pertains to writers.  In particular check out #17.  People keep asking me why I'm leery of the RH/Penguin merger.  I don't know why this should even be a question. 

This Friday, I'm linking to Chuck Wendig's Terrible Minds blog, with his latest list of 25 Writer Resolutions for 2013.

Those of you who follow me should know I'm no stranger to Chuck's work. I've linked to several of these lists before, and have done an appreciation of him as well. (And there's much to appreciate: Blackbirds, Mockingbird, Atlanta Burns, his Penmonkey Advice, his constant blogging by way of intravenous mental internet techtyping, his slightly insane twittering, and have you seen that beard? Me-Ow, Batman).

So today, take some time to look these over and see if you can't apply it to your writing lifestyle for the new year. And as a sneak peak, one of my favorite quotes from this:

"21. WRITE FICTION RED IN TOOTH AND CLAW

Punch. Kick. Grab. Bite. Fuck passivity. We don’t get to be paid penmonkeys and crackerjack creators by lying on the ocean floor like a bloated sea cucumber letting food glom onto his turd-blob body. You’re not a morbidly obese shut-in who can order opportunity and creativity from Amazon (delivered with Prime Shipping to your double-wide trailer!). You are shark. You are wolf. You are shark-wolf hybrid with machete-flippers and fire-eyes and a deep and unabiding creative hunger. Creators must take aim at their goals. They must sniff out opportunity and stab it with their steely knives. You want that pound of flesh? You want your novel on shelves, your script on a screen? Move, motherfucker. Or get out the way."

Chuck Wendig once again comes to the heart of the matter.

A part of his, "25 Things," series, which he's been doing for years now, Chuck outlines ways for an artist to not only survive as a creative person, but thrive as well. I don't know how he always manages to do it, but like many of these posts, this is a fun, succinct, hilarious and poignant look at what it takes to keep going when the world gets you down.

It is not just for writers, but for all who use their creativity to impact the world. Go check it out, it's worth the read I promise you.

As someone who is assaulted on all sides to just, "do something," and, "pick a direction already," this quote means a lot to me.

Thanks Chuck.