To think, some people complain about nine months. It took me two-and-a-half years to birth my new novel, Shooter in the Crosshairs. Of course, I didn’t have to force it out of a clenched orifice. I’m sure the corners would have been hell.
It’s been one hell of a pregnancy. From the early stages of morning sickness wondering why I thought I could create lives for Brock Nicholls, Nancy Patrick, Percy Finch and the rest out of nothing, to the middle trimester where it all seemed like a dream and that final push seemed so far off, to the labor pains involved in cutting and slashing all those precious lines I had crafted because, well, they really didn’t work.
As with all labors of love, there are lots of people who helped along the way: my early mentors and critters on Critique Circle, my local writing group, my co-workers who had to put up with my constant talk of Brock and his adventures. Guys like Stewart Lenslinger Pittman and Kevin b-roll Johnson first allowed me to foist my words on the public and led me to believe I had something to say. This book is really their fault.
Shooter may never have come about if it weren’t for a woman I have never met, @SpaceyG. She saw a half-told short story on my blog years ago. One gushy blog review later, I began looking for a plot to carry that story to a full-length novel.
And, of course, I could have never done this without the support, the encouragement, and the kick in the ass from my biggest fan and harshest critic, my wife.
Just like in childbirth, now that the baby is here, the real work begins. In the publishing business I think they call it marketing. In the real world of journalism, we call it what it really is . . . begging people to buy my baby. So if you haven’t checked it out yet, follow the link to download your copy of Shooter in the Crosshairs. Or look for an ebook in your favorite on-line bookstore. If you like the feel of real paper, you can always get a paperback from amazon.
I’ve already started on my next one . . . maybe I can get this one done in just two years.