Beyond Blue Excerpt #2

In this scene Gunny steps in to help an undercover cop, and winds up going undercover himself.

Chinatown was certainly a change of scenery for Gunny Robinson.  Standing at the restaurant door he raised an eyebrow as a big black sedan with no back window sped past.  He quickly checked the faces of other pedestrians but no one else reacted at all, except for the one white man in sight, who took off running in the other direction.  Inscrutable, that's what these people were.  Inscrutable, or so accustomed to weird sights that they were numb to them. 

The little reaction Gunny drew in this neighborhood was the occasional smile.  Not so surprising, since he didn't look so foreign.  Chinese faces bore some resemblance to his Pacific Islander features.  Perhaps that made them think he might be one of them.  He was dressed suitably for a Sunday morning in gray wool trousers and blazer with a black turtleneck.  And he didn't gawk like tourists generally do.  He had learned on Guam that gawking was bad form.  Considering his shaved head, barrel chest and tree stump legs, the locals might think he was a visiting sumo wrestler in training. 

Once the damaged car was out of sight, Gunny opened the door to the imaginatively named Good Chinese Kitchen restaurant.  Couldn't these people even pretend to come up with something original?  How many had he been to with names like China Buffet, Buddha House, So Good Buffet, Good Dumpling House or the obviously better Excellent Dumpling House, and the ubiquitous Hunan this-that-or-the-other.

But he trudged up the dark, narrow stairway because this was where Lorenzo Lucania had asked him to join him for a dumpling and some conversation.  Gorman had encouraged him to stay close, maybe get inside himself, to keep Lucania on the straight and narrow until he could be pulled off the street. 

The restaurant was a good choice, dark and sparsely populated with a bar up front and a wide dining area beyond.  The art motif was provocative Chinese, as if all the painted geishas were waiting to serve you.  The carpet was thick and absorbed any stray sounds.  Support beams were wrapped in faux jade contact paper, and paper lanterns held very dim light bulbs.  On the far side of the buffet setup Lucania sat behind a plate and a pot of tea.  He was almost invisible, dressed as always in black

The Good Chinese Kitchen was filled with the scent of stir-fried food, but otherwise it was a good choice for a meeting.  Gunny saw only two other people in the dining area, a young Chinese couple who evidently could see only each other.  Gunny grabbed a plate at the buffet station and covered it with a thin layer of fried rice.   Then he heaped the plate with his favorite of the choices available, General Tso's Chicken.  Then he joined the undercover policeman at his table.

"Hungry?" Lucania asked.

"Always," Gunny said.  "Thirsty too.  Is there tea left in that pot?"

"More's on the way.  And we need to keep this short.  I'm expecting more company soon and you probably don't want to be here when they arrive."

A waiter appeared with a fresh pot of tea and extra condiments.  Lucania seemed to be enjoying some sort of fried rice combination and a couple of egg rolls, but he still wasn't smiling.  If anything, he seemed tenser than the last time Gunny had seen him.  Gunny hoped his news would lighten the mood a bit.

"So, what is it with you?" Gunny asked, dropping hot mustard on his food.  "You related to Johnny Cash or something?"

"It's a style thing," Lucania said.  "When you dance with the devil, you ought to dress appropriately."

After a moment of industrious chewing, Gunny cleared his mouth and continued.  "Well, if you can hold out just a little while longer, I think we can get you off the dance floor."

Lucania's eyes narrowed.  "You're not going to blow my cover."

"Look, Lorenzo, don't get to worrying, man," Gunny said, pouring more tea.  "We won't jeopardize you, or your mission.  But we will get you in out of the cold."

"It ain't that easy."

"Don't have to be easy," Gunny said.  "You've got Paul Gorman in your corner now.  When he gets involved with things, problems tend to get up and get out of the way."

"Really?"  Lucania used an egg roll to push food into an orderly circle on his plate.  "Your boss Gorman going to talk to the president for me?"

"Probably just your boss, Vic Warner."

Lucania shook his head, his black hair falling over his forehead.  "Not destined to be a pleasant visit.  You don't know Warner.  He bites the heads off nails."

"Should be an interesting meeting," Gunny said with a chuckle.  "Gorman eats nails and spits razor wire."

"I know my share of bad dudes," Lucania said.  "I've seen in your eyes, and I can see that you're the real thing.  But what about this Gorman.  Is he bad?"

Gunny leaned back, chewing thoughtfully.  "Bad?  Nah, Paul ain't bad.  But you know, the bad don't mess with him."

Lorenzo Lucania took a deep breath and stared down at the table with his lips clenched together.  Then he looked up into Gunny's eyes.  His face softened and for a brief moment all the conflict in his soul leaked out.

"I'm in a box here, Gunny," he said in a low, guttural voice.  "I can't squirm any farther.  I got no wiggle room here.  I've done some bad things in this job, but now I'm at the precipice looking down.  If I cross that line, then I'm not pretending any longer.  I'll be one of them."  Then his face returned to is usual hard lines.

Gunny leaned forward.  "Hang on, man.  Remember, it's about honor and loyalty, just like in the corps."

"Sure," Lucania said, "but loyalty to who?  The guy who put me out on that line?  Or the guy who's taking care of me now?"

"Loyalty to the uniform," Gunny said.  He would have gone on, but footsteps behind him made him turn.  Three big men stalked toward them, all wearing dark colored sport coats and business shirts with the collars open.  It was as if they had dressed together that morning.  They walked directly to Lucania's and Gunny's booth.  The biggest man, at the lead, didn't stop until he was almost on top of them.

"Morning, Lorenzo," he said with a Brooklyn twang.  "Who's your friend?"

"This is Gunny, a new fellow I'm thinking about trying out," Lucania said with no evidence of tension.  "Gunny, this here's Mike, Gus on the left there and the other guy's Robbie."

Gunny smiled and turned to offer his hand to Mike, who was an imposing figure.  Gunny was no small man, running close to 250 pounds except during the holidays when cheesecake and sugar cookies pushed his weight a bit higher.  Mike had to be 300 pounds and an inch taller than Gunny's six foot one inch frame, with long wavy black hair hanging onto the back of his collar.  He seized Gunny's hand in a power grip and gave him a broad smile, the way a Doberman pinscher smiles when he meets you.

"Mr. Lucania, he don't need no more help right now," Mike said.

Gunny returned the grasp, and remained calm as he looked up.  "I think that's for him to decide.  Maybe he just wants to have somebody on his payroll with good manners."

"Relax, Mike," Lucania said.

"I am relaxed," Mike said.  He stopped squeezing and started pulling, raising Gunny to his feet.  "I'm just saying our crew is a good size now, Lorenzo.  I got all the muscle you're ever going to need."

"Maybe he just wants to add some brain to that muscle, big man," Gunny said.

"Don't need no Samoan wrestler for that," Mike snapped.  With a grin he pushed Gunny back into the booth.  Gunny sprang to his feet, stepping forward so his nose almost touched Mike's.

"I am not Samoan," Gunny said in low tones.  "I come from the Royal Kingdom of Tonga.  Sicily is probably thirty times as big as all our islands put together, but we seem to have absorbed all the sense they meant to drop in your bigger island."

Lucania said, "Fellows, this is pointless."  Gus and Robbie took a couple of steps back and settled into another booth.  The couple seated across the room stood and slipped out of the room.  The waiter approached from the bar, stopped, and slowly backed away.

"You're really asking for me to kick your big ass, ain't you?" Mike asked. 

Gunny backed off three steps, holding his arms wide and his knees slightly bent.  "Bring it, big boy."

Amazon.com is taking advance orders for Beyond Blue now.

Beyond Blue Excerpt

In order to whet your appetite for my next mystery thriller, Beyond Blue, I have decided to share a few excerpts of the book, pre-release. This one features the agency's leader, Paul Gorman. 

There are a few locations maintained by the New York police that are neither known nor open to the public.  These are the place from which special task forces operate.  Control units direct undercover operations from these sites.  In order to conduct their business with reasonable security, these operations are often conducted out of apartment buildings or, in some cases, residential homes.  A very small number of workers come and go on a daily basis, often through concealed entrances.  Rarely does anyone actually walk up to the front door.

It was at exactly one such residence on a quiet street in Brooklyn that Paul Gorman walked up and rang the doorbell at one minute after nine on a Monday morning.  The lawn was well kept, the hedges trimmed to mechanical precision, and the small flowerbeds obsessively weeded.  Those observations told Gorman quite a bit about the man that he was there to see.

He wondered if whoever was observing him through some peephole, as someone must be, was learning as much.  Paul had tried harder than usual to tame his lion’s mane of thick black hair this morning, but the autumn wind had brought it back to life during his walk from the bus stop.  His heavy hounds tooth overcoat should have taken him out of the salesman class.  His well-shined black shoes were solid, not flashy, as was the style.  His big hands, neither in gloves nor in his pockets, might hint at a military background. 

Could the observer see the frustration in the creases of his face?  Gorman had gotten up early that morning and left the house before his beloved Patsy even stirred.  He chose to ride the bus so that he could work undisturbed.  Work in this case meant pencil work on a yellow pad, continually reconfiguring the snippets of data he had gathered from his agents in the previous forty-eight hours.  He was not liking the configuration of the cases they were running.  Most importantly, he didn’t like the fact that all of them seemed to be coming to a head on the same day.  He wanted to coordinate his resources better, perhaps defuse some and delay others, so that the cases could be wound up in a more orderly manner.  Sadly, the world was rarely as orderly as Paul Gorman thought it should be.  That was why he had walked the neighborhood for nearly thirty minutes, pushing people around in his head like the multicolored squares on a Rubik’s Cube until a pattern emerged that he could live with.

Gorman allowed one minute to pass after ringing the bell, then pressed the button again.  Nearly a minute later he heard a chain slide out of its place, and two bolts getting thrown.  A young blonde woman in jeans and a halter-top opened the door and smiled up at him.

“Can I help you?”

“They let you come to work like that?” Gorman asked.  “Oh, of course they do.  Paul Gorman to see Mr. – or is it Captain? – Victor Warner.”

“Gee, I’m sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong address,” the woman said.  “I’m just the babysitter, but this is the Winters residence.”

“Uh-huh.  Look, you’d be better calling yourself the au pair in this neighborhood.  Go tell Warner that I’m here about Lorenzo Lucania, and that my next stop is the Mayor’s office.  Make sure he gets my name too, okay?  Paul Gorman.”

“I think you’d better go, Mister,” the girl said, affecting a passable degree of discomfort.  She closed the door and Gorman waited.  He waited two long minutes and was just contemplating the long bus ride to City Hall when the door opened again.  The man in the doorway had a great hawk nose and small, dangerous eyes.  He reminded Gorman of the picture on the front of old paperback novels of The Shadow except that, instead of a black mantle he wore a gray wool suit cut sharp as a razor.  After a few seconds of appraisal he flashed a shark’s grin.

“You’re him?” he asked in an old school Brooklyn accent.

“I’m me,” Gorman said.  “Presumably, you are you, and would be Mr. Victor Warner.  Or…”

“Captain,” Warner said.  “But you can call me Vic.”

“Then I’ll be Paul.  May I come in?”

Warner waved Gorman into a medium sized living room that was furnished for comfort and showed signs of being dusted and vacuumed every day.  Warner stepped past him and headed for the kitchen.

“The operation is downstairs.  You want coffee?”

Gorman nodded, and Warner poured into two big black mugs.  His assumption that Gorman wanted no cream or sugar implied either great confidence in his own judgment or deep research into Gorman’s habits.  The coffee was strong and hot and Gorman was content to learn more about Warner’s motivations later.

They proceeded down a narrow flight of stairs to what the people there probably called the nerve center when they spoke to less elite officers.  The large finished basement had been divided up into a prairie dog city of cubicles.  The hum of electronics and the banks of flashing lights and screens made Gorman wonder if he was at risk from the massive electromagnetic field that this place must generate.  He had visited NASA once, and this place rivaled anything he saw there.  It made him realize just how low tech his own operation remained.

“People!” Warner called out, and a dozen faces spun to focus on him.  “I know you’re all working hard, but I wanted you to know that you’re in the presence of a legend.  This is Paul Gorman.  After a brilliant Army career in the Military Police he retired and created a second brilliant career in civilian law enforcement.  He ran at least three major metropolitan police forces and was consulted by just about every police chief or commissioner in the country.  And today…” Warner stopped and turned to Gorman as if he expected him to address the group of younger officers.  Instead he spoke directly to Warner.

“Today I’m a private consultant, and manage a local detective agency.  Guess that makes me semi-retired,” he said with a self-deprecating smile. 

Beyond Blue Interview #4 - Ruby Sanchez

I've been interviewing the members of Beyond Blue Investigations, who are the lead characters in my upcoming detective novel.  WARNING: Today's subject is prone to rude, inappropriate and profane language.

Ruby Sanchez met me with a sarcastic smile in a Europa Café in Midtown Manhattan.  She’s tall, sharp eyed and full lipped, with a robust figure and flawless skin the color of dark chocolate. Her hair, a tight mass of dark ringlets, hangs just past her shoulders. A lot of men might think her the ideal woman until she spoke.  A few minutes of her high, squeaky, raspy voice was enough.

AC: It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms Sanchez…

RS: Of course it is, sugar.  You a man and, let’s face it, I am the shizzit!

AC: Um, yes.  Well, I’m curious about your background.  Sanchez is Spanish?

RS: Got the name from my Cuban father.  Never met the man myself. Obviously I get everything else, including my good looks, from my mama.

AC: Raised by a single mother… what was that like?

RS: Well, it ain’t like I was growing up along. It was me and my nine sisters in a little apartment up in Bed-Stuy with my Looney Tunes mother who made a living as a fortune teller and running small time con games.

AC: Bedford Stuyvesant is a tough neighborhood. How did you get out?

RS: There was this teacher in high school… Mr. Diggs… noticed I had a gift for observation and puzzles.  Pushed me to check out law enforcement.  If not for him I’d never have got into the FBI. That was a pretty good gig for a while.

AC: I take it you like Beyond Blue Investigations better.  How’d you end up there?

RS: Hey, you go where life drags you.  I learned a lot at the FBI but all the bureaucracy and paperwork just burned my ass. So I bailed and got a job where I could be on the street, as a cop in Jersey City.  I saw a shitload of action there, until I caught a bullet in my lower back. It’s still there, because no doctor has the balls to go after it. Afraid I’ll get paralyzed or some shit. They gave me a medical retirement and I figured I’d go freelance as a private dick… without a dick.  But the day I walked out of HR, Gorman was waiting for me.  Said I was just what he needed in this outfit he set up.”

AC: What’s your role at beyond Blue Investigations?

RS: You kidding? I’m Gorman’s go-to girl when there’s real investigating to be done.  Anybody can kick ass.  I can find the clues to solve the mystery AND kick ass.

AC: Here’s a question I’m asking everyone.  Fill in the blank: The problem with this world is that there’s not enough _______

RS: Whoa! You shitting me?  There’s so much there ain’t enough of in this world. I gotta pick one thing? The real problem ain’t a shortage of anything, sugar, it’s that there’s too many assholes. Guess that’s why I do what I do.  I’m in the asshole removal business. 

You can read an excerpt from Beyond Blue (it's in the updates) and help get the book published, by visiting http://ow.ly/yqQSh 

Beyond Blue Interview #3 - Gunny Robinson

Paea “Gunny” Robinson is a big man, six foot one and nearly 300 pounds, with a round, shaved head and an easy smile. His chair, behind the big central desk in the Beyond Blue reception area, fit him so well it may have been custom made and he sat with perfect posture. I could see why he’d be an asset to the agency, but I wanted to know more than just his imposing appearance.

 AC: Obviously you’re a Pacific Islander but which island do you hail from?

GR: I am a proud son of the Royal Kingdom of Tonga. Our islands are small but we grow warriors there.

AC: Why do they call you Gunny?

GR: The day I turned 18 I went to Hawaii and joined the Marines. You Americans have trouble pronouncing my first name, but in the Corps we tend to call each other by our rank.  I was a Gunnery Sergeant when I retired and the name just stuck.

AC: What’s your role here at beyond Blue Investigations?

GR: Well, I’m sort of the boss’s Chief of Staff. He’s the company commander and I’m his top sergeant. When I started out I ran the office completely, but then the boss hired Linda. She does most of the admin stuff, so I can do more field work.

AC: I understand you once considered being a sumo wrestler.  How did you go from those aspirations to private detective?

GR: Well, I was Military Police in the Corps but I never really imagined being a civilian cop. I’d been a judo player since grade school and left the military with a third degree black belt.  I love the sport but there’s no money in it, so for a while I considered sumo wrestling, which is respected in Japan like pro basketball is here.  But this is, I don’t know, kind of a calling.

AC: So how did you get involved with Beyond Blue Investigations?

GR: [Laughs] Now that’s a story. Somehow, two days after my retirement the boss showed up at my door. Out of nowhere.  And it was like he knew everything about me. Then he says, “I’m on a mission, and I need you, Gunny.” I got to tell you, I worked for some impressive men in the Marine Corps, but Paul Gorman, he’s in a class all his own. I’d follow that man into hell if he asked me to.

AC: What do you think of the people you work with?

GR: Well, they’re a quirky bunch.  Some days I could do without Chastity’s pretentious attitude, and every day I could do without Ruby’s squeaky voice.  But they are all very talented, capable and dedicated, and I’d happily march side-by-side into hell with any of them.

AC: Here’s a question I’m asking everyone.  Fill in the blank: The problem with this world is that there’s not enough _______

GR: Shrimp.  There can never be enough shrimp. The world would be a happy place if only everybody could have enough shrimp.  Especially me.

You can read an excerpt from Beyond Blue, and help get the book published,by visiting http://ow.ly/yqQSh (look in the updates.)

Web Site Wisdom

A lot of what this blog will be about is what has worked for me in terms of writing, publishing and selling novels.  Sadly, I don't  have the keys to the universe in any of those areas because the universe of publishing has changed radically in the 14 years I've been living in it.

For instance: I've recently completely rebuilt my web site.  Is it better?  I think so.  It's at least what I want it to be.  But how do you know what a writer's web site should be?

Interviewing web hosting experts and publicists gave me a lot of contradictory advice.  There is a definite voice in the business saying that a good web site is where readers will get everything they want or need to decide to buy your books.  They recommend having samples of your books and posting short stories or articles.  Character descriptions could attract fans.  There should be a media page with author photos, bios of varying lengths, contact information and of course your book covers.  Of course you need a list of upcoming events, your favorite links, reviews and blurbs you've received and links to your social media pages. 

This voice thinks your web site should also be entertaining, with video, audio features, theme music and special effects. The content should be layered, to hold visitors with plenty of "value added" material, eventually leading them to a way to purchase your books.

But there's another voice, just as loud right now, saying that your web site should be as simple as possible.  It's merely a home base for people who Google you to find your titles.  This voice portrays the web site as a billboard, contending that you really communicate with the reading community on Facebook, Goodreads, and Twitter.

With such opposite philosophies expressed by the experts, how is  an author to decide what his web site should look like.  Well, you could hire a professional web site designer and turn them loose, but that will only give you what someone else loves.

My suggestion is that you list your ten favorite authors and go look at their  web sites.  Make note of what you really like on their web sites, and how they're structured.  If you see one that really makes you smile, save the URL and tell your web builder to imitate it. 

As you can see, I went with the second theory for my new web site - http://www.ascamacho.com/  - keeping it simple and direct.  Let me know if I made the right choice, or if there's something you feel I need to add to make it the perfect web site.

I'm Baaa-aaaack!!!

A new beginning.  Every new year brings a chance to reexamine our lives and make a fresh start. For me, that process has resulted in, among other things, a new title for this blog.

In preparation for 2014 I had to plan my goals and objectives. In doing so I realized that describing this as an author’s life was no longer accurate.  The life of a publisher is also exciting, and hopefully of interest to those of you who aspire to be published authors, or who just want to know what it’s like to be one.  Besides, publishing is as big a part of my life now as writing, and the two roles are often in conflict.  We all have the same number of hours each day and have to choose carefully what we do with them.  But, as a publisher I have responsibilities to others and they often win out over my selfish desire to add words to my next novel. 

So, yes, high on my list of things to do is completion of the next Hannibal Jones mystery.  And I am dedicated to making sure the second Creatures, Crimes & Creativity conference is even better than the first.  But as editorial director of Intrigue Publishing I owe it to my partners and the emerging writers I work with to read and appraise incoming manuscripts with care, and help the authors we sign with to make their manuscripts as good as they can be.  So I add to my goals the release and publishing of at least six exceptional works of fiction.

There is also the matter of promotion to face.  Only now, in addition to marketing my own novels I must dedicate time and energy to promoting my company and helping to establish our place in the publishing community.  So my objectives now include attendance at a certain number of conferences and assisting with events that support our authors.

But I am off to a pretty good start. I’ve set myself some deadlines.  I’ve cleaned out my office so I now have an uncluttered place to work.  I’m scheduled to be on panels at two literary conferences.  I’m 58,000 words into my next novel and realized this week that it needs another suspect. And Intrigue already has three magnificent books in the hopper scheduled for 2014 release.

SO, if you’re interested in how I juggle my different roles and seek balance in my life, or if you just want to know how my books and publishing venture are doing, keep reading this blog.  And if you have something to say about the writing life, or the life of a publisher, please send me your thoughts and opinions at ascamacho@hotmail.com. I am always happy to host guest blogs.

And I’m always happy to see comments on my blogs.  In this case, what are YOUR plans for 2014? And how will you stick to those plans?

What's in a Name?

When we create fictional characters they have to become real to us.  We see them in our minds, hear their voices, and notice their personal habits.  To know them well we decide where they’re from, what they do for a living and every aspect of their lives.  Of all those details, how important is the character’s name? And if names matter, how do you choose them?

For most writers names aren’t random choices.  That’s good because as superficial as we are, we draw a lot of meaning out of a person’s name.  That means you can pack a lot of meaning INTO a character’s name.  For example, my detective Hannibal Jones has a very common last name, indicating an everyman.  His father named him after the only African military conqueror he could name, the man who led elephants in his army and almost defeated the Roman legions. 

So when you have a significant character to name, who is your character named after?  Who named him, mom or dad?  Does she have a name that indicates parental personality expectations, like Chastity or Felicity?  And that is the case, has your character grown into her name, or taken a stance in opposition to it, like fictional adventurer Modesty Blaise? 

Last names are revealing too, because they often indicate nationality with all the assumptions they bring.  If you have a fellow named Patrick O’Connor in your book, and he ISN’T Irish, you’d better tell us right away because your readers will have already slotted him.  And in fact if he isn’t, there’s probably a great story there that will tell us a good deal about him. 

Similarly, nicknames tell us a lot about your character.  If you give your character a nickname, you’ll need to know if he took the nick himself or if someone stuck him with it.  Some choices are obvious.  If you introduce me to Tiny I expect a giant.  But if her pals call her Brain, she might be the one who always has a plan, OR she might be an idiot.  Either way, the fact that she accepted that nickname tells us about her confidence level and self-image.

So how do you find the right name for that imaginary person?  The phone book?  Names of people you know?  Or some gut instinct?  Let me know YOUR method, and how important names are to your fiction.

My View of Reviews

I am often asked how to get reviews for a book.  It’s a fair question when fewer and fewer magazines and newspapers have review sections, well known reviewers naturally prefer to review well known authors and even bloggers who review books are inundated with books from publishers every month. 

Blogger reviews are great, and you can get them.  The trick is to network with bloggers.  Start by following the blogs you’d like to be reviewed on.  Post comments often.  When they write a review you really like, tweet it, or if it’s already out there, REtweet it.  BE a fan to GET a fan.  When you send your book out it is much more likely to be reviewed if the reviewer recognizes your name.

Even bloggers who don’t usually review books can help you.  Once they know who you are they might agree to let you post a guest blog talking about your book.  Or, maybe they’ll put an excerpt of your book on their blog.  Many bloggers like to do author interviews, so make sure you offer to answer a few questions. 

Another way to get reviews is to become a reviewer yourself.  I write monthly for The Big Thrill, the newsletter of the International Thriller Writers.  There’s no pay, but it makes networking with other writers in my genre very easy.  And when I have a new book coming out, it is very easy to ask people I have reviewed to take a look at it. 

You don’t have to have connections with a newsletter or magazine to do this.  Post reviews on Amazon.com of books in your genre.  Not only does this put your name in front of their readers, but it makes them more likely to say yes if you ask for a review. 

All the same rules apply to getting reviews in print publications.  Your best bet is to get to know the reviews at local newspapers and magazines.  If they don’t have one, get to know the entertainment writer.  If he’s writing about TV or local theater he might want to review the local author’s work too.  So comment on their articles (so easy now that almost all publications are on line as well) so they’ll get to know your name.

And don’t overlook social media sites.  I regularly post on a Yahoo Group called Kindle Korner and when someone mentions one of my novels I ask them to put their comments where everyone can see.  A lot of the group members have posted reviews of my books.  Other good places to get reviews include Goodreads and Library Thing.  Both sites have easy setups for doing reader giveaways.  Readers can win a free copy of your book if they post reviews.

Of course the most important factor in getting reviews is to write a book worth talking about.

The Key to the Keynotes

If you decide to produce a mystery conference you want to get a big-name mystery author to give a keynote speech.  That name lends credibility to your project and attracts fans who want a chance to get up close and personal with the master.  But what if you’re giving a mystery-suspense-thriller-horror-science fiction-fantasy-steampunk conference like our own Creatures, Crimes & Creativity Con?  Well, to draw those various fans you better have broader big name representation.  How do you do that?

Well, here’s what not to do.  Don’t write to the publicists, managers, editors or agents of your favorite writers.  Those folks are in the business of getting lucrative gigs for their authors.  One vampire-writing Southern belle gets more for a speaking engagement than our entire conference budget!  Even local mystery bestseller Laura Lippman gets $5K to appear.  (To be fair, Ms Lippman does donate every penny of that to the Enoch Pratt Free Library, a marvelous way for an author to give back.)

You get those big names to your conference by being part of the writing community so you can ask them personally.  Jeffrey Deaver has put so many thrillers and mysteries on the New York Times bestseller list that he could almost name his price to appear at a conference.  Even if you’ve never read a mystery you probably know who his sleuth Lincoln Rhyme is or have at least seen The Bone Collector, one of his novels that made the jump to the big screen.  But when I asked him, at a Mystery Writers of America meeting, if he’d be willing to headline our new conference he checked his PDA and said, “Sure, I’m free.”

Similarly, our local guests of honor are people we know beyond their writing.  I’ve met John Gilstrap, another New York Times bestselling thriller writer, at several writers’ club functions.  He gives classes in the area and works with local writers whenever he can spare the time.  John always supports other authors and he quickly agreed to attend the C3 conference.

Urban drama author Sandra Bowman is a master (mistress?) of networking.  She knows all the local writers worth knowing and met bestselling romantic suspense author Trice Hickman on Facebook.  When Trice learned of our planned conference she was the first to offer her talents and marquee name to the cause.  She, like Gilstrap, will be interviewed at the conference and will give a seminar on writing and getting published.

Our second keynote speaker, New York Times bestselling horror and science fiction writer Christopher Golden was NOT a personal friend.  However, Golden is a longtime friend of a longtime friend of mine, Meloney Crawford.  When Meloney was a comic book editor she gave Golden one of his first breaks as a writer.  When she reached out to him for me, he was happy to come on board.

Networking and professional friendships are the secret to getting great celebrity guests for a conference.  And I think we have some real shining stars for the C3 Conference.

Conference Planning: Location, Location, Location

 Last week I told you that we here at Intrigue Publishing will launch a new conference for writers and fans next year.  Once we decided to hold the Creatures, Crimes & Creativity (C3) conference the next decision we had to make was where to put it.

We wanted our con to draw readers and writers of the chosen genres from the entire DMV – The District of Columbia, Maryland and Virginia.  We also wanted it to be easily accessible for people coming in from farther away.  And we wanted to keep costs down.  The less expensive the venue, the less we would have to charge for registration.  But we had absolute minimum space requirements.  We needed enough rooms to have three panels going on at one time, plus spaces for a bookstore, registration, an author roundtable and special events.  The hunt was on.

A cost comparison quickly ruled out any venue in DC.  Several places in Northern Virginia were in contention, especially in Arlington where Malice Domestic was held for several year, in easy reach of Reagan National Airport.  Then we looked at some promising places near Baltimore Washington International Airport. 

We found what we were looking for just north of Baltimore.  The Marriott Hunt Valley had the space we were looking for at a reasonable price.  It is an easy train ride from BWI Airport.  Plus, the folks there have valuable experience.  For years they’ve hosted Balticon, one of the better known science fiction gatherings.  They know how to do this con thing, and how to handle the special kind of people we call fans.  And did I mention that they offered us a really nice discounted rate for attendee’s hotel rooms?  We met with them and ran through all the details with smiles on both sides of the table.

The next decision was about food.  At some cons the visitors are on their own for dining.  At others meals are included.  We decided to follow the Love Is Murder pattern and include as many meals as possible in the registration price.  This would prompt people to stay in the hotel and network when they weren’t watching a panel.  We arranged to have Friday’s dinner, all three meals Saturday and Sunday’s breakfast be part of the package.  And since the panelists will all be there, fans will be able to sit at a table with their favorite writers, or maybe with new authors they just met.         

Of course, there are a lot of other details involved in putting a con together.  I’ll talk about more of them next week.