Using Commas is Intimidating

I've been making a ton of comma mistakes lately, so I just wanted to post a few helpful tips that I've found on using commas. I recently heard a brilliant writer say that commas still intimidate him, which made me feel a little better about my own comma usage. Still, the more correct my writing can become the first go around, the less time my revision will take (which is taking me a very long time at the moment). By the way, I'm not sure if I used a comma correctly in that last sentence.

From the Purdue Online Writing Lab

When to use a comma

Introductory elements often require a comma, but not always. Use a comma in the following cases:

• After an introductory clause. 
• After a long introductory prepositional phrase or more than one introductory prepositional phrase. 
• After introductory verbal phrases, some appositive phrases, or absolute phrases.
• If there is a distinct pause. 
• To avoid confusion. 

When not to use a comma

Some introductory elements don't require a comma, and sometimes the subject of a sentence looks like an introductory element but isn't. Do not use a comma in the following cases:

• After a brief prepositional phrase. (Is it a single phrase of fewer than five words?)
• After a restrictive (essential) appositive phrase. (See our document on appositives.)
• To separate the subject from the predicate. (See below.)

Each of the following sentences may look like it requires a comma after the opening segment (marked with an x), but the opening segment is really the subject. It's sometimes easy to confuse gerund- or infinitive-phrase subjects like the following with nonessential introductory phrases, so be careful.

Preparing and submitting his report to the committee for evaluation and possible publication[x] was one of the most difficult tasks Bill had ever attempted.

To start a new business without doing market research and long-term planning in advance[x] would be foolish.

Extracting the most profit for the least expenditure on labor and materials[x] is the primary goal of a capitalist.

From the New York Times

“Comma splice” is a term used for the linking of two independent clauses — that is, grammatical units that contain a subject and a verb and could stand alone as sentences — with a comma. When I started teaching at the University of Delaware some years ago, I was positively gobsmacked by the multitude of comma splices that confronted me. They have not abated.
Here’s an example:

He used to be a moderate, now he’s a card-carrying Tea Partier.
It’s easy to fix in any number of ways:
He used to be a moderate. Now he’s a card-carrying Tea Partier.
He used to be a moderate; now he’s a card-carrying Tea Partier.
He used to be a moderate, but now he’s a card-carrying Tea Partier.
He used to be a moderate — now he’s a card-carrying Tea Partier.
How to choose among them? By reading aloud — always the best single piece of writing advice — and choosing the version that best suits the context, your style and your ear. I would go with the semicolon. How about you?
Two particular situations seem to bring out a lot of comma splices. The first is in quotations:
“The way they’ve been playing, the team will be lucky to survive the first round,” the coach said, “I’m just hoping someone gets a hot hand.”
The comma after “said” has to be replaced with a period.
The other issue is the word “however,” which more and more people seem to want to use as a conjunction, comparable to “but” or “yet.” So they will write something like:
The weather is great today, however it’s supposed to rain tomorrow.
That may be acceptable someday. Today, however, it’s a comma splice. Correct punctuation could be:
The weather is great today, but it’s supposed to rain tomorrow.
Or
The weather is great today. However, it’s supposed to rain tomorrow.
Comma splices can be O.K. when you’re dealing with short clauses where even a semicolon would slow things down too much:
I talked to John, John talked to Lisa.
Samuel Beckett was the poet laureate of the comma splice. He closed his novel “The Unnamable” with a long sentence that ends:

… perhaps it’s done already, perhaps they have said me already, perhaps they have carried me to the threshold of my story, before the door that opens on my story, that would surprise me, if it opens, it will be I, it will be the silence, where I am, I don’t know, I’ll never know, in the silence you don’t know, you must go on, I can’t go on, I’ll go on.

Which goes to show, I suppose, that rules are made to be broken.

One Last Cheatsheet

http://www.jalc.edu/departmentpages/english/pdfs/write_place_tutorials/33_common_uses_for_the_comma.pdf

There are a few ways you can be a hero and support AJ. Free things are: try Audible or AmazonPrime for 30 days, link to us a social network like Twitter, Facebook or Reddit, or download and rate the podcast in iTunes. If you have a little spare money you can send a Paypal donation to ajsnookauthor@gmail.com, buy one of AJ's Kindle eBooks, or buy anything on Amazon by going through the site. Thanks so much for your support, AJ
 

Building Worlds is Not Storytelling: What We Can Learn from Stephen King, World of Warcraft, and Breaking Bad

The ecstasy that goes along with imagining a world is a feeling that most everyone can identify with. I'm not just talking about readers of the Kingkiller Chronicles or players of World of Warcraft, either. I'm talking about everyone who has anything invested in storytelling. Anyone who's a fan Breaking Bad or True Blood also knows what I mean.
of Lord of the Rings (yes, for the record I recommend the books) or even

So, for you writers out there, how have you tried to invent a world around your narrative? If I can give any advice to you, it's DO NOT do what I did. The following is a brief description of my misstep:

I spent the first thousand or two-thousand words of my book simply explaining the rules of my futuristic world. It was a deadpan approach that I was so into at the time of writing that I thought my feelings would soak themselves up into the words and transplant directly into the feels of the readers.

Boy was I wrong.

It has been about a year since I read the first thousand words of my book, plenty of time to step back from the story and read it objectively. And oh damn was it dry. It read like an encyclopedia with commas all out of place (I have trouble with commas...thank God I have a grammarian willing to edit for me).

So what's my advice?

Tell your story through your characters. You will be forced to make it interesting for their sake. If you believe in the world, you will do your best to make it believable for your characters. That's a rule that I stand by.

Q: How do I unveil my world through my characters?

A: Start by writing out your boring encyclopedia entry about your world. It's OK to do it, just don't publish it. Then give your characters scenarios related to one aspect of the world at a time. Hint: Don't try to show (remember rule 1 of writing fiction: show don't tell) all aspects of the world in one scene. Ideally, they'll all unfold over time and your characters will find themselves in conflicts naturally. Trust me, they will.

Stephen King (paraphrased): Outlines are for little bitches. They dry up your stash.

Rule 2 of writing fiction: Rising action begets climax begets falling action (but that falling action better be cathartic and/or profound a
nd/or unique).

Rule 3 of writing fiction: Falling action is the hardest part.

Rule 4 of writing fiction (this one's about style): If your characters are in interesting situations your style doesn't have to be particularly interesting. In short, document their events and your readers will be satisfied, if not happy.

Recap: Don't build your world too directly. Let your characters do the heavy lifting. Don't outline or you'll limit what your characters can do. Get them into some trouble but resolve it in a surprising way. Don't be a hero with your form. You are a communicator and your ideas (your fiction) is the artistry. Simply, don't try to do too much or your readers will be confused. And, don't ever assume that your emotions will attach themselves to your words.

Trust me, they won't.

There are a few ways you can be a hero and support AJ. Free things are: try Audible or AmazonPrime for 30 days, link to us a social network like Twitter, Facebook or Reddit, or download and rate the podcast in iTunes. If you have a little spare money you can send a Paypal donation to ajsnookauthor@gmail.com, buy one of AJ's Kindle eBooks, or buy anything on Amazon by going through the site. Thanks so much for your support, AJ

Einstein and Combinatory Creativity

This article was inspired by Maria Popova.

Many of us don't often think about where creativity comes from, but if we do stop for a second to wonder, we can quickly realize a few things. We might determine that it's a combination of all experience: all knowledge, all daydreams, all culture, all pressure, all goal setting...and a certain amount of selectivity from the pot. Einstein called this method of choosing "combinatorial creativity".

I'll post the entire quote of Einstein's at the bottom of this article, but to keep it simple (like I do), perhaps we should first heed this piece of advice:

"If you want to find out anything from the theoretical physicist about the methods they use, I advise you to stick closely to one principle: don't listen to their words, fix your attention on their deeds." 

"On the Methods of Theoretical Physics," Herbert Spenser Lecture, Oxford, June 10, 1933.

So, basically, in the age of the internet I can relate this to our brutal and anonymous critics. The internet is such a glorious invention. It's a canvas to post our words and our images, to spout our unique opinions (though we often find them to be not as unique as we first thought), to build an audience (whether or not it's a paying one), and to shine our souls (whether or not anyone feels their warmth). 

But how many times has a critic on the other end of a keyboard somewhere, a nameless entity save for a forum handle, taken the wind out of your sails, deflated your tires, and made you feel like you stepped in gum (or worse), all at the same time? It's sure happened to me, but I recently made it a point to not take their criticisms so seriously. Sure, the critics have useful information to give.

Stephen King said: 

“I have spent a good many years since--too many, I think--being ashamed about what I write. I think I was forty before I realized that almost every writer of fiction or poetry who has ever published a line has been accused by someone of wasting his or her God-given talent. If you write (or paint or dance or sculpt or sing, I suppose), someone will try to make you feel lousy about it, that's all.”

So keep putting your ideas out there. Eventually they will spindle together and trap audiences like webs of entertainment and bliss. They will not only affect the minds of the audience members on that first sitting, but eventually, with persistence, they will return as memories. That is what we're going for: the memories. Memories can affect your audience's decision in the future, and artists who call pull off that trick can really change the world for the better -- they can become magicians. 

So let's all give it a try.

And here's the long Einstein quote that I promised to those of you who made it this far. He said:

"(A) The words or the language, as they are written or spoken, do not seem to play any role in my mechanism of thought. The psychical entities which seem to serve as elements in thought are certain signs and more or less clear images which can be "voluntarily" reproduced and combined. There is, of course, a certain connection between those elements and relevant logical concepts. It is also clear that the desire to arrive finally at logically connected concepts is the emotional basis of this rather vague play with the above-mentioned elements. But taken from a psychological viewpoint, this combinatory play seems to be the essential feature in productive thought--before there is any connection with logical construction in words or other kinds of signs which can be communicated to others. 
(B) The above-mentioned elements are, in my case, of visual and some of muscular type. Conventional words or other signs have to be sought for laboriously only in a secondary stage, when the mentioned associative play is sufficiently established and can be reproduced at will. 
(C) According to what has been said, the play with the mentioned elements is aimed to be analogous to certain logical connections one is searching for. 
(D) Visual and motor. In a stage when words intervene at all, they are, in my case, purely auditive, but they interfere only in a secondary stage, as already mentioned. 
(E) It seems to me that what you call full consciousness is a limit case which can never be fully accomplished. This seems to me connected with the fact called the narrowness of consciousness (Enge des Bewusstseins)"

There are a few ways you can be a hero and support AJ. Free things are: try Audible or AmazonPrime for 30 days, link to us a social network like Twitter, Facebook or Reddit, or download and rate the podcast in iTunes. If you have a little spare money you can send a Paypal donation to ajsnookauthor@gmail.com, buy one of AJ's Kindle eBooks, or buy anything on Amazon by going through the site. Thanks so much for your support, AJ

Who Are the Alien Engineers of Ridley Scott's Prometheus? (A Theory)

Warning: Spoilers Below

I know there are a lot of critics of Ridley Scott's film, Prometheus, the pseudo-prequel to the movie Alien. I would argue that it's not a prequel, but rather a film set in the same imaginative universe. While the main action of the film is happening, Sigourney Weaver's character, Ripley, might be a young girl, or maybe her mother and father are on their first date, it's not clear to me (though I'm sure there are some Alien nerds out there with the quick answer to that).

But I'm not writing this to critique the connection of Prometheus to the classics, Alien and Aliens, nor am I here to critique the campy scene between the naive biologist and the alien cobra of death, the scene viewed by most as the biggest gaff. All of that doesn't matter to me. I grew up in the 90s, a time so full of action movie cheese that I probably became desensitized. Talk to 90s-heads like me and you'll find out that we're some of the most forgiving fans of stinky cinematic Gouda as long as the concept is sound. Give me the ancient aliens and the intergalactic conspiracy, and I'll happily watch a Hollywood moron disguised as a scientist for ten minutes as he gets himself killed. If anything, during that filler scene I can use my brain to consider the size of the conspiracy taking place. Ancient alien engineers for God (gods?) sake! We're the descendants of star men!? So cool.

So put the plot holes and bad acting behind you, and think bigger. Speculate, ruminate, and theorize who exactly these giant humanoids are. That's what left me giving Prometheus an 8/10 on my IMDB account. These concepts filled me with wonder, and my 90s movie-going self would much rather soak in these far out ideas in Hollywood fashion than through the mind that lies underneath Giorgio Tsoukalos' crazy hair.

So here's my theory. Let me know what you think:

In the first scene we see an alien clad in a robe not unlike the kind that Zen monks or Jesuit priests wear. He's obviously spiritual in some shape or form. Either that or he's performing a ceremony. I prefer to think the former, that they all wear robes like these and sit for hours upon end out in nature. He then proceeds to drink a cup of the poisonous engineered sludge that spawns the weaponized alien lifeforms (the kind that eventually evolve into Ripley's nemeses). He dies and the DNA is released into the planet that he's on, as a ship flies off into the distance.

My theory is that this alien straggler stayed behind on his own accord. He was not forced to. I believe he is not on earth in this scene, and that this is not the scene where the ancient aliens spawn mankind long ago. I believe he stayed behind in protest, to release the weaponized alien DNA onto the planet where the weapons are stored, in an attempt to weaponize that planet and sabotage the alien humanoids' plan to wipe us out (along with our AIs) with that giant cache they have stored there.

Why?

First let me explain my theory as to why they want to wipe out us meek humans. The answer has to do with Michael Fassbender's character: the AI on board the ship. The aliens must have checked up on us sometime recently and saw that we were trending toward a roboticized society. I believe that they also lived through that trend, and barely survived some sort of cataclysmic Judgement Day, a war with their machines, and they barely made it out alive. They want to wipe us out to prevent another war with a new race of machines.

Just look at their spaceship and their technology. It almost seems to be made of rock, and they start it up with flute music. Very earthy, very Avatar-ish if you ask me. I think that after their war with their machines they decided to only use technology for space travel and survival, to scale back on their use of machines, and most importantly, to not give machines their own minds ever again.

So when the ancient alien wakes up and tears off Fassbender's head, he's not just grumpy after a hundred year super-nap. In fact, he detects with his advanced alien perception that Fassbender is an AI, a representation of the biggest threat to his race (and the organic universe?) that he knows. All of those canisters were loaded on that ship to take us all out, AIs included.

But the ship couldn't take off. The engineers were killed by the alien weapons before they could launch. But how did an alien cobra evolved from the sludge so quickly?

To answer that question, I believe that this weapons station was setup as a precaution thousands of years ago when man first started organizing himself in a powerful way (maybe during ancient Egypt?). They would then monitor us and only use the weapons if they really had to (after all, they are spiritual folks who have been through their own holocaust and have no intention of causing another one for their young cousins if they don't have to). But when they saw our computers getting smarter, rapidly evolving toward self-awareness, they knew they had no choice.

It was a controversial decision, however. Not all of the alien giants agreed. One of them, in fact, thousands of years ago, protested the idea of wiping us out no matter what inventions we came up with. And that is why he stayed behind and committed suicide with a shot of black goo. He spawned this weapon-cache planet with the very weapon they were storing there, so that if anyone were ever to come back to ship the canisters off, there would be a good likelihood that the planet would be full of killer aliens to prevent them from doing so. After all, we learned that the weapons are quickly-evolving aliens, so a few thousand years would be plenty of time to turn from particles in the bottom of a river to death cobras.

That's my schpiel. Sorry I nerded out there, but I really like this version of the story even if it's not what they choose to tell in the sequel.

To recap: these hippy alien engineer giants in the movie Prometheus didn't want to kill us but they saw us taking a path (the advancement of AI) that might put their civilization in danger, the same path they once took long ago, one out of balance with the Gaia mind, so they decided hardheartedly to take us out, only to be stopped by a sacrificial revolutionary/visionary thousands of years before they were to attack. Whew. Let me know what you think about this idea. I'm waiting for the sequel and strongly considering some alternate reality fan fiction if this isn't the story that Ridley Scott chooses to tell.

There are a few ways you can be a hero and support AJ. Free things are: try Audible or AmazonPrime for 30 days, link to us a social network like Twitter, Facebook or Reddit, or download and rate the podcast in iTunes. If you have a little spare money you can send a Paypal donation to ajsnookauthor@gmail.com, buy one of AJ's Kindle eBooks, or buy anything on Amazon by going through the site. Thanks so much for your support, AJ

Elon Musk's Hyperloop Train: Soon to Be a Reality?

One of the main features of transportation that I mention in my upcoming novel, Sumire, is the MagLev trains that run in evacuated tubes. Long a dream of every futurism-minded person, the MagLev (standing for magnetic levitation) is a bullet train that runs off the track, slightly levitating due to the polar opposites of the wheels and the track. This technology already exists. In fact, test rides can be had on an experimental track not far from Tokyo. But a test track for evacuated tubes, or hyperloop trains as Elon Musk is branding them, does not exist.

Moving on, the maximum speed of a current MagLev train is not a whole lot faster than a conventional bullet train. Physicists and fans of the MagLev lore will know that it's not the friction on the track that's keeping the trains from going faster, it's the air resistance.

Haans Petruschke, the top commentor on NPR's recent story about the hyperloop trains, explains the mechanics of it all much more clearly (and correctly) than I can:

The whole idea, in fact Musk's modality, is leveraging existing technology rather than developing anything radically new. This is what he has done at Tesla and SpaceX. 

There is no magnetic levitation. No super conduction or cryogenics that would require. This is a rectangular capsule pushing itself through a round tube evacuated to .015 psi. It compresses the air at the front and shoots it out the back to create thrust, retaining some of the compressed air for the air bearings. The air bearings are used to keep the capsule away from the walls of the tube. The linear motors are to provide boost where the compressor cannot produce sufficient thrust. 

The whole thing gets its electricity from solar cells on top of the tubes. The capsule have battery packs that are changed out for recharging.
I don't think anyone involved in the story is really getting this. Everyone is jumping to conclusions without actually reading and comprehending the proposal.

So, the next step is to put these magnetic trains in an evacuated tube and pump oxygen into the cabin like we do in airplanes. When this is achieved the trains can theoretically reach speeds of 800 miles per hour. Imagine going from Seoul to L.A., watching Cloud Atlas, wondering why they're not using hyperloops in New Seoul, and then having an ice cream on Santa Monica pier to let Sonmi's manifesto really sink in. Imagine the possibilities.

Of course, the infrastructure would be tremendously expensive and governments would have to subsidize some of the costs for this to become a reality any time soon.

Or...megarich tech tycoons like Elon Musk -- as wealthy as some governments himself -- could throw some of their chips into the mix.

We have all the necessary technology to do this, so look forward to it soon. What do you think about the prospect of these hyperloop trains? Are you worried, like some people, about safety? Are you expecting them to be out of your price range, a fanciful luxury for only the rich? Or are you optimistic? Let me know in the comments below. One thing I do know is the prospect of this tech, along with hyper-sonic flight, make for an ever more connected future world.

If you are interested, please preview the first chapter of my novel, Sumire, here. It is scheduled to be released in the fall or winter of 2013.

There are a few ways you can be a hero and support AJ. Free things are: try Audible or AmazonPrime for 30 days, link to us a social network like Twitter, Facebook or Reddit, or download and rate the podcast in iTunes. If you have a little spare money you can send a Paypal donation to ajsnookauthor@gmail.com, buy one of AJ's Kindle eBooks, or buy anything on Amazon by going through the site. Thanks so much for your support, AJ

Sneak Preview: Prologue of My Debut Novel "Sumire"

The following is a rough version of the opening chapter of my book. It's highly likely that it will look different when the polished final draft of the book is published (it hasn't been through editing yet), but it does give a good sense of the philosophies and technological dreamings that have poured out of me while writing Sumire, and I am trying my best to get the ball rolling with promoting this thing. 

In case you were wondering, it's pronounced SUE (as in "boy named"), ME (as in "I, you"), and RAY (as in "Romano, gun, X"). It's a Japanese name that I've always loved. I taught a girl once with the same name. She had such a remarkable personality and way of treating me: complete and utter disrespect for me because I was an authority figure, but at the same time complete and utter respect for me because I was a fellow human being. All of this coming from a junior high school student. I'll never forget her. 

Anyway, enjoy the chapter. If you would like updates on the pending book release date and any potential promotional days, please add me on either Facebook, Twitter or Google+. Look for announcements in either late fall 2013 or sometime in winter thereafter.

Prologue of Sumire

Meet young Dustin. He was born into the age of virtual reality, and raised by the rigid social classes in the Phys (that is, the physical world). He found the social stratification on the soil trite and constricting, so he fled to VR (virtual reality) space, the place that can make dreams, the place that can suck you into hallucinations forever. It’s something of a dangerous savior, a blissful demon. Like in anything, Dustin has had to learn to balance. The joys and benefits of VR space can be so great that they can lead to uncontrollable desires, like those from powerfully addictive drugs. And just like a dangerous and gripping drug, VR space can suck you in and leave you with little chance of ever returning to the place you came from -- your own conscious mind. 

Dustin sure thought that, no doubt. And there he sits.  

So there Dustin sits. He is about to tap into VR space for just the third time. It is a new enticement for him, a huge love, an extension of the Internet, which, of course, is an extension of literature, of stories and fables and never before manifested wonders of the imagination, though here it is a magical place where characters in the story become the users, the central figures actively creating the prose with all five of their robust senses, instead of sitting back, following and accepting the plots without choice. In VR space Dustin has the freedom to go wherever he wants, whenever he wants. Until now, access to good information and imagination had always been speeding up and some people thought we were at the verge of the end point, the point of purity and bliss.

When he logs in he finds his consciousness instantaneously shift to a field of down feathers and mattresses made of soft cotton and silk. The women that he’d loved in his past are all there, bits of information extracted from the imagination -- pubescent pipe dreams of teenage lust and want. He plays and touches and smiles for hours, like a newborn being coddled by his ever loving mother.   

By just the fourth time in VR space, Dustin is a victim. The pleasures of the land have formatted his brain into something else, something dependent. He has no hope of ever going back to the Phys. He is a VRling now, a zombie. Sooner or later the people who love him back there will find him and spend the rest of their lives giving him sponge baths and whispering songs of long ago into his deaf ears. He is done in one world but just beginning in another. Is that something to be ashamed of or proud?  He hasn’t yet decided, though he never will, for his consciousness has no idea it has been switched over to a simulation, a fake reality. It’s a seamless transition and should any of the VRlings ever be woken, they would be extremely suspect of our physical world. They would kick and scream and call foul. "How can one world be fake and the other real yet the smell and the touch of each be identical?" they would ask. 

VR space is a natural disaster like none other, a silent killer that brings heaven quickly after death. Existentialism had never been such a hot topic before VR space. What is real? Is any of it? Are we all VR-lings in a simulator from some other reality that we believe is the only true reality? Dustin might never know the answers to these questions unless someone comes along and figures out what is behind all of this. He might be lost in a realm of computerized orgasms and moans, of winning goals and harrowing adventures, for as long as his fleshy shell can stay afloat in the Phys. Maybe it will be a year, maybe thirty, maybe three hundred. Medicine is marching along nearly at the pace of microchips, getting more advanced by the day. All in all it is a groovy time, though! Dustin, may your worldly consciousness rest in peace, but fret not. Welcome to the 2060s!

There are a few ways you can be a hero and support AJ. Free things are: try Audible or AmazonPrime for 30 days, link to us a social network like Twitter, Facebook or Reddit, or download and rate the podcast in iTunes. If you have a little spare money you can send a Paypal donation to ajsnookauthor@gmail.com, buy one of AJ's Kindle eBooks, or buy anything on Amazon by going through the site. Thanks so much for your support, AJ

Ep. 16 - The Ghost and the Fire

This is a re-post of the audio for my short story, The Ghost and the Fire. I have to post it new in order for my iTunes feed to pick it up, I think (still not too savvy at this). Apologies for the wasted space on the blog.   - AJ

 

Self-Publishing Tips - Matthew Mather's SHAKESPEARE Formula

I've been doing a lot of research lately about how you, a self-published author, can actually sell that book that you worked so hard on. Of course, the first step is to hone your craft and create a solid product. I wrote in a recent post about the need for multiple editors who are trustworthy and attentive. I also wrote about being almost Zen with your writing and doing it for the sake of creativity above all else. That will keep you going when you aren't making any money. But the question remains: after a book is as good as it is going to get, how can you sell it?

Like I said, I've been doing a lot of research. Part of my research has been to read through blogs of successful self-published authors. One such author is Matthew Mather. He writes in the sci-fi genre, which seems to be the second or third most demanded genre for self-publishing (the first being romance, of course). Mather has graciously given others permission to regurgitate this method, but asked us to mention his novel, Cyberstorm, if doing so. Check it out if you have time.

His method is called SHAKESPEARE which is thankfully an acronym and not a demand for us all to go out and figure out how to be workaholic geniuses who can churn out masterpiece after masterpiece. Read Mather's original, longer post here for a lengthy description. I will try to abbreviate it below for quick reference and simplicity.

The acronym stands for the following:

Serialize (1st book short, get reader hooked, get progressively longer)
Hook (tell the whole story generally in a short story, promise juicy details in the novel)
Amazon (only use Amazon to start, keep it simple)
Key networks (social networking, writing forums, the blogs of other authors)
Empathize (reader can walk in main character's shoes, do this quickly)
Select program on Amazon (use the 5 free promotion days smartly)
Perceived value (break the book up into 99 cent chunks AND offer the whole for a bargain price)
Editing (create a workshop with other writers or hire them for cheap, you NEED editors plural)
All free posting websites ($10 a head test audience on Craigslist, then dish out press releases)
Reviews (boost Amazon ranking by urging those who read for free to review it on Amazon)
Engage (keep blogging, reply to comments and emails from readers, go on podcasts, etc...)

Print this out, write it down or commit it to memory. You can't expect to reinvent the wheel. Follow in the footsteps of those who have figured out a good system. This is what I plan to do for my first novel, Sumire, which I am finishing up now (I'll have a sneak peak of the first chapter on the blog soon).

Additionally, you may want to consider spending a little money to promote your book. One way to do this is to sign-up for Adwords and pay Google to do it for you. I found this piece of advice from the WritersBeat Forum, a community that I have recently joined and very happy with so far. Here's the entire post, though most of it crosses over with the SHAKESPEARE method (apart from the Adwords tip).

If you are a self-published author, how have you been promoting your work? If you haven't been promoting, how does Mather's method sound? Will you try it? As for Adwords, does anyone know a magic dollar amount that seems to help build a healthy audience? If not, that is where my research will take me next. Until then...


There are a few ways you can be a hero and support the Mindloft. Free things are: try Audible or AmazonPrime for 30 days, link to us a social network like Twitter, Facebook or Reddit, or download and rate the podcast in iTunes. If you have a little spare money you can send a Paypal donation to ajsnookauthor@gmail.com, buy one of AJ's Kindle eBooks, or buy anything on Amazon by going through the site. Thanks so much for your support, AJ

Butter Roll's Reign of Terror (Short Story)

"All these creaks. All these damn creaks," said Bruce. "Makes getting past him a horror."

Bruce knew the first stair from the top was off-limits. A rookie mistake to put even the pressure of a single digit on it. That step had a voice. It must be destined for a career in opera -- no, conservative cable TV punditry -- in its next life.

But first there was the minefield in the main hall, just feet away from where he sleeps. Oh so many creaks there. Bruce could imagine the forest this wood came from, spookily groaning on an extra windy day.

Some of the minefield's creaks he had memorized, thanks to months of practice. As Butter Roll, the one who could unleash his hegemonic stronghold with just one wail, lay in slumber, Bruce played roulette with his freedom in each placement of each foot.

Just as he was about to test the next slat, an explosive chortle came blustering out of Butter Roll's mouth and nose. Frozen, balanced on one bended and sturdy leg like a Thai Chi master, Bruce thought better of placing that foot down, post-chortle, for every sneaker and tip-toer from far and wide knew that the post-chortle time was the most vulnerable time, the time when house masters like Butter Roll here were closest to breaking free of the chains of their slumbers.

After a sufficient amount of time had passed, the exact amount was hard to tell due to the temporal masks of adrenaline and focus, Bruce continued. He tested the boards, applying just thirty percent pressure each time with the balls of his athletic socked feet.

A creak. No, it was more like a squeak -- a timber whimper.

Delusions filled Bruce's head.

"Have these malformed slabs of wood, no doubt pulled from second rate soil, dry and crumbly stuff, sworn allegiance to Lord Butter Roll? Did he trick them into doing his bidding?"

Bruce stopped to take a breath, a long, complete one, the kind that relieves shaking appendages and releases small amounts of sanity in the form of endorphins.

"Just keep moving," he thinks. "The prize is getting nearer."

Somehow, some way, after prudently testing each step, after placing acute awareness on each movement, Bruce was able to clear the minefield unscathed. The beast that was Buttter Roll was breathing steadily, undisturbed, as was the plan.

The final move, if Bruce were to escape and crack open his silver treasure, was to open the door.

"The goddamn door," thought Bruce.

When fully closed, not even a master cat burglar, not even the Pink Panther himself, could open it quietly enough to escape Butter Roll's terror, his usurping of silence.

"Thank the spirits it was left slightly ajar," thought Bruce.

Even when ajar, this portal to bliss could be tricky. Every move on this slow road to freedom had to be planned out, all risks weighed, and the opening of the door was no exception.

Bruce wrapped his fingers around the scratched brass handle. He pulled with the slightest of force.

Creak.

A look in his periphery caught a stirring Butter Roll, head shifting violently to one side. A powerful chortle erupted, but he remained at rest.

"Give it a minute and try again," reassured Bruce.

What came next was brazen and reckless, but Bruce's patience was running out. At this brutal pace, Butter Roll might wake up on his own and the taste of the treasure might never be known.

With that horrible notion Bruce applied even greater force to the door, enough to open it a foot, maybe less, but enough to slide through, anyways, if this were to work.

CREAK.

Now a whimper, a snort, and a violent stir -- threatening to ruin the entire operation -- came from behind Bruce. Unable to look, sure he had failed, Bruce stood with this head hung low, miserably waiting for the inevitable beckoning of the angry Lord rising out of his slumber. But it never came.

A deep breath came from the Master.

Followed by another.

Steady sleep resumed and Bruce was glowing, for the next step was onto creak-proof carpeted stars, save for that first step he needed to step over, the last obstacle, which he cleared without a problem, and the spoils of the mission were in sight. They lay nested together behind cardboard and in the dark artificial cold, waiting for the door to open and for the light to turn on, to serve their purpose of running through Bruce's body, pleasing him numbly -- appeasing him.

Bruce cracked open the first and there was still no cry from the Lord.

"Success," Bruce whispered to himself. He admired the cold metallic cylinder in his hand and appreciated its simple purpose. Holding it up in reverence and revelry he toasted the heavens and smiled wearily, but smiled nonetheless.

Just as the aluminum treasure was about to rest against Bruce's gloating lips, to reward him, there was a shadow in the window, an immediate threat to this peacetime. Then came a violent bang on the door.

BOOM, BOOM.

"Delivery!" shouted a man dressed in a green jumpsuit.

"Shit," said Bruce. "That's all she wrote."

And the cry filled every corner of the house.


There are a few ways you can be a hero and support the Mindloft. Free things are: try Audible or AmazonPrime for 30 days, link to us a social network like Twitter, Facebook or Reddit, or download and rate the podcast in iTunes. If you have a little spare money you can send a Paypal donation to ajsnookauthor@gmail.com, buy one of AJ's Kindle eBooks, or buy anything on Amazon by going through the site. Thanks so much for your support, AJ

David Brin: Storytelling as Magic

I have been working hard lately to treat my writing more seriously, to make it a part of me more than something separate, to make it meaningful. If you've read my previous posts you'll have noticed my fixation on creativity and its inherent value. I want to affect a large audience someday, but I'm also happy simply practicing for the sake of practicing. I'm happy splashing around in the surf of creativity.

The ancient man who could take hold of and expand the minds of the tribe was a particularly valuable member of the group. When cultures believe that a man pointing a stick can cause harm, people die. And so, the genes that enable storytellers to survive have been passed down, and they survive today. The reader, the skilled technician, the receiver of magic, decrypts squiggles into marvels inside the mind. David Brin implies in this video that the creator -- the magician -- has a duty to hone his craft to the point where he can touch the imaginations of as many readers as possible. It's a matter of evolutionary progress. In order to do this, he will need guidance, advice and criticism.

Our relationship with the reader is sadomasochistic, and we're supposed to be the sadist. We want people saying they almost got into big trouble because they were reading our book when they should have been sleeping, studying, working, or even making love. When I heard David say this, it was the first time I had heard a writer come from this perspective, but it made sense. All of the best books put us through the wringer, cause us agony, yet we thank the author for it in the end.

So the magic we are striving for manifests as a trance in the audience. We want the reader to be so engrossed that they'll scream in rage when they find out "who done it".

And here's the big question: How can we cause this kind of pain and agony in our readers, the kind of suffering that they come running back to when the next book is released, the kind of urge that only a writer's magic can conjure up?

The answer is simple: get feedback from others.

Find out where they were able to put the book down to feed the cat or to get some sleep. Where was it tolerable to leave our magic. Where did our sentences lull enough for them to cast our narratives out of their minds and return to reality? Criticism is the only known antidote to error. It is the only way to find out the answers to these questions. If we don't, then the path forward will be a hundred time as hard.

Good ways to get feedback:

1) Start a workshop with other writers in your community.

2) Join a creative writing class at a community college (which will at the very least provide you with a weekly deadline and practice critiquing and being critiqued)

3) Write online. Publish short stories and fan fiction for free. Join a forum. Urge people to point out your weaknesses and thank them for it.

As for me, I put my writing on this site for anyone to enjoy. I have also been offering free promos of my stories listed on Amazon and encourage those who download them to email me their critiques after they finish reading. Also, I visit r/writing from time to time on Reddit, as well as participate on the forum WritersBeat.com. These are just a few methods that work for me. What works for you?


There are a few ways you can be a hero and support the Mindloft. Free things are: try Audible or AmazonPrime for 30 days, link to us a social network like Twitter, Facebook or Reddit, or download and rate the podcast in iTunes. If you have a little spare money you can send a Paypal donation to ajsnookauthor@gmail.com, buy one of AJ's Kindle eBooks, or buy anything on Amazon by going through the site. Thanks so much for your support, AJ

Shunryu Suzuki and Creativity

There is something about a good meditation that makes one feel like he has melding in with the setting, like he has become all that he is conscious of. A good writer needs to be able to put himself in the shoes of his readers, to know which parts of the setting to describe and which to leave untouched. Meditation and creativity, or shall I say presence of mind and creativity, are linked at the core. Reading Shunryu Suzuki, I have discovered a lot of interesting points about creativity that put its process in perspective. For example, he says:

1) If you think that God created man, and that you are somehow separate from God, you are liable to think you have the ability to create something separate, something not given by Him. For instance, we create airplanes and highways. And when we repeat, "I create, I create, I create," soon we forget who is actually the "I" which creates the various things; we soon forget about God.

2) To give one line of teaching may be to make a ferryboat for someone.

AND

3) Moment after moment we are creating something, and this is the joy of our life. But this "I" which is creating and always giving out something is not the "small I"' it is the "big I." Even though you do not realize the oneness of the "big I" with everything, when you give something you feel good, because at that time you feel at one with what you are giving. This is why it feels better to give than to take.

I read these quotes and I can easily apply them to creativity, to writing. This connection may seem obvious because he uses the word "create" again and again, but let me try to give a couple concrete examples.

1) We forget about our influences: the natural world that has shaped our consciousness and taught us to be who we are.

2) A writer cannot write without having read book upon book upon book. These novels, stories and essays are nothing more than ferryboats destined to the shores of our own creative explorations and pursuits.

3) Creation, in my humble opinion, is a big "take". We can't make anything that's not born out of our limited experience. And let's not kid ourselves, all of our experiences are limited. No matter if we've climbed the Himalayas, fought in wars in far off lands, or buried our heads through multiple PhDs, we are still stuck in the vacuum that is time and space. We are still limited. And so, we can't help but feel good to create and to give our creations away. Maybe some of us find that our creations are commodities that we can charge for, but if not, who cares. It's all for the betterment of others, and that's what counts.


There are a few ways you can be a hero and support the Mindloft. Free things are: try Audible or AmazonPrime for 30 days, link to us a social network like Twitter, Facebook or Reddit, or download and rate the podcast in iTunes. If you have a little spare money you can send a Paypal donation to ajsnookauthor@gmail.com, buy one of AJ's Kindle eBooks, or buy anything on Amazon by going through the site. Thanks so much for your support, AJ

Ep 15: E.B. White and Disembodied Conciousness

In this episode AJ reads a remarkable letter from E.B. White to his editor and explores what the value and nature of creativity is. Download directly from Archive.org or in iTunes, or listen to it on Youtube.

Smile Bus (A Poem)

Smile Bus

I sat on the blue bus today
My son strapped to my chest
His heart searched the air for warmth
Like a spotlight emitted through orbs
The lady next to him smiled
And an exchange between souls took place
And the warmth caught fire
It only grew, as if to say,
"To hell with thermodynamics."
The energy spread from person to person
Born out of the nothingness
Humanities greatest innovation
Permeating every mind
Every fuzzy seat, every handrail

A child on the side of the road saw the bus drive by
And said,
"Mommy, there goes a smiling blue bus."
And the mother smiled, too.


There are a few ways you can be a hero and support the Mindloft. Free things are: try Audible or AmazonPrime for 30 days, link to us a social network like Twitter, Facebook or Reddit, or download and rate the podcast in iTunes. If you have a little spare money you can send a Paypal donation to ajsnookauthor@gmail.com, buy one of AJ's Kindle eBooks, or buy anything on Amazon by going through the site. Thanks so much for your support, AJ

Dreaming: For Many, The Most Familiar Altered State of Consciousness

In my last podcast I talked about meditation and David Lynch's theory that it can be a way to tap into the unified theory of physics and, in turn, boost creativity by suppressing negative emotions like anger and melancholy. It prompted me to share what I had learned with the Duncan Trussell Family Hour forum. While there, I read an interesting comment about dualism and being skeptical about the possibility of a disembodied consciousness.

What's so fun about non-agenda, independent journalism, AKA blogging, is that I am free to follow my inquiring mind wherever it may lead. This time it led to disembodied consciousness, which will be the subject of the next podcast. It led me to wonder what science or documentation there is on the subject. I found this BBC video to convince me somewhat, and I also found the Dalai Lama talking about training yourself to be able to disembody your consciousness at will in preparation for the moment of your death, but, as Joe Rogan might say, my bullshit alarm is still going off. Part of the reason for this might be all of the David Icke videos that show up in my searches.

Anyways, I've had a couple dreams lately that I talked about in the last podcast. They were totalitarian in nature and depicted security scanners outside of convenience stores and prisons full of innocent people, locked up like animals, in line for routine electroshock therapy. Perhaps I watched one too many Turkish protest videos, or perhaps those disturbing yet guilty-pleasure satisfying episodes of American Horror Story are just coming back to haunt me.

Whatever the case may be, I had a sense in my dream that my consciousness was outside of my body and it was witnessing something exterior, not of my creation. I had a sense that I was a visitor somewhere. Call me crazy, but I had the sense that the dream was a singular consciousness that I was facing up against.

Usually my dreams are flashes of scenes happening, flickering rapidly from one to the next like an old reel of film. Rarely am I in one place for a prolonged period of time. This time, maybe because consciousness has been on my mind (confusing concept when you break it down, I know), maybe I was a little more observant in my dream, for every time I began noticing what was going on, the characters in the dream seemed to rush me off to a new scene as if not wanting to be recognized or, dare I say, found out.

Of course, I haven't come to any conclusions about disembodied consciousness, but if anything it's a wonderful idea for a story and I've been looking for a good horror story topic that ties into the theme of exploring consciousness. Maybe my dreams were my Muse staring back at me, in there, in the dream that was in (or out of) my head.


There are a few ways you can be a hero and support the Mindloft. Free things are: try Audible or AmazonPrime for 30 days, link to us a social network like Twitter, Facebook or Reddit, or download and rate the podcast in iTunes. If you have a little spare money you can send a Paypal donation to ajsnookauthor@gmail.com, buy one of AJ's Kindle eBooks, or buy anything on Amazon by going through our site. Thanks so much for your support, AJ