Two is your eyes and one’s your nose,
And five is your fingers and your toes,
And four is the legs on an easy chair,
Yet there ‘s no number can compare with six. Bert and Ernie Number Six
I just signed to have my sixth novel, A DEATH IN A SNOWSTORM published. The publisher also does audio books, so there is a possibility this novel will end up in an audio book format, which is a plus for all of you out there who regularly follow my blog and can’t read. If they do produce an audio book, I will not be narrating it. Quite frankly, I have the voice of a toad … and sadly the resemblance does not end there.
For a while, I didn’t think book number six would ever exist. After finishing book number five, I was all set to stop writing. I will be fully retired soon, and I thought I’d just kick back and take it easy. (It is one of the reasons I haven’t done many blog posts lately.) But I had three unfinished novels in the hopper already, and it’s hard to dump the hopper since I have to stand on a chair. A small voice in my head—which may be an early sign of schizophrenia—said: “The least you can do is finish those three novels.” Not wanting anyone to think that I don’t always try to do the least that I can, I set about finishing those books, and up popped a fourth novel: A DEATH IN A SNOWSTORM.
I am now almost finished with another novel which isn’t even up there in the hopper with the other three. When I wrote my first novel, HEROES OFTEN FAIL, and promptly threw it away—that small voice is a vicious critic—I never thought I would attempt another one. It took too long. It was too much work. Now here I am with my sixth novel accepted for publication, and enough other books waiting in the wings that I might have to get a bigger hopper. Writing had become something of an obsession the stories come into my head and I have to get them down of paper. When it’s going good I love it, and when it’s going bad, I think I should have listened to that little small voice after the first novel
It is said Earnest Hemingway loved and hated writing. He liked creating the stories and hated the tedious work of editing and getting everything just right. There is a lot of that in me—and that will be the last time you will hear me compare myself to Hemingway. I enjoy the creativity of putting the stories together, especially mysteries. I like laying down the clues and the false clues to send the reader down the wrong path where he’ll fall off a cliff while I laugh manically. It’s like being the person who constructs the New York Times crossword puzzle, except you don’t have to be smart and know a lot of useless stuff.
So I have novel number six coming out tentatively next spring. I’ll tell you more about it as time goes on. It’ll give me something to blog about.