Broke Down on Kindle

Yes, my latest novel, Broke Down on the Road to Glory, is now available for the Kindle for a mere 99 cents. How come it's so much cheaper than the print book? No dead trees!

I'm starting to warm up to this e-book concept. Being a closet tree-hugger I like the idea of killing fewer trees, but I also like being able to charge so much less for my books. That may sound weird, but being a relatively new writer I feel uncomfortable asking people to cough up ten bucks to read my stuff. But at less than a buck for the e-version, if they don't like it they're just out the cost of a single Krispy Kream.

On the other hand, 99 cents is about average for what I pay for books anyhow. The vast majority of my reading consumption comes from Goodwill and library books sales. I'm a cheap reader so I can only expect that my target audience are also cheap readers.

I guess now though I'll have to break down and buy one of the Kindle things for myself. Maybe finally get around to reading all those Project Gutenburg books I've been meaning to read.

http://www.amazon.com/Broke-Down-Road-Glory-ebook/dp/B004TNGLC0/ref=tmm_kin_title_0

100 Words

There was nothing good on the radio the night that Spider left. He didn't mean to leave. He just wanted to get out and do something. He circled town twice and found nothing to do that he hadn't already done one too many times. The bars were full of people he'd already met. The movies he'd seen. The bands he'd heard. So he aimed the car west. He drove and drove till he came to a new town. Went into a new bar. Heard a new band. Met new people. Three years later, nothing on TV, he headed west again.

A Splinter In My Mind

Somewhere among longing, desire and addiction there is writing. A disease. A mental illness. The arrogant belief that people will care to read whatever words my fingers happen to spit onto the page. The hubris of it all.

There are better things to be doing. There is a Harry Potter marathon on TV. There is a racing bike that needs its wheels put together. There is a pile of cardboard that needs to go to the recycling center. But no. I have a thought. It must be recorded. Everything must stop and wait while I make another feeble attempt at immortality.

I shut off the TV, put my headphones on and tune the internet radio program to the goth-industrial-techno music that keeps me pumped up with its beat without the distraction of any intelligible lyrics. The idea is transferred through the fingers and the keyboard onto the virtual page. Seeing my idea transformed into letters and words relieves the awful itch in my brain. I have written. I have conquered thought.

I save the file in the "use later" folder along with all the other stuff I simply had to write down at the time. All the stuff I still believe I will some day find a use for, find an audience for. Someone must want to read this.

Major Disappointment

I finally got around to going to the bike shop today and bought all the grease and lube and stuff to make my bike all running smooth and everything. Then when I got home there was the box holding my bar end shifters. This would, barring any other surprises, be the last parts I would need. No more excuses, time to finish the build. I tore into the box and unwrapped something else. It wasn't my shifters! It was some other shifter parts for a flat handle bar.

A quick look at eBay showed me that the guy I bought the shifters from had also sold what I had gotten in the mail to someone else. I can only assume that person has my shifters. A simple mistake and I'm sure the seller will make good, but still, major disappointment!

A Minor Failure

Last week I saw a scene of amazing passion, anger and righteous outrage. I've spent a week trying to recreate with the written word the facts and emotions of that moment. I spent countless hours typing and retyping. Rearranging adjectives and adverbs. Exploring the bounds of description, from straight reporting to metaphor glutted hyperbole. I have failed miserably. The faces, the voices and the invisible energy that drove and colored the moment haunt my words but will not manifest themselves. I am emasculated by this failure. One scene, one moment has wrestled by creativity to the ground. I must surrender.

My first Bike Build - OOPS!

The aero bars don't fit. Well, to be accurate, the mounts are setup for a thinner handlebar. The handlebars I got bulge in the middle where the stem is mounted. I got these because they are what I got. I didn't really plan anything beyond making the numbers match and unfortunately the aero bars didn't have any numbers. Fortunately, it looks like all I need is some longer screws and perhaps some stiff plastic spacers. TO THE BIKE SHOP!

UPDATE

Well, the trip to the bike shop didn't help. Longer screws alone won't do it, so I either need to get thinner handlebars or a $50 dollar fit kit that will add three to four pounds. With my weight I don't think the thinner handlebars are a good idea. The fit kit looks really kludgey and I'm not sure that saving the aero bars is worth it. I did some research on the internet and think the best solution is to get a pair of bar end shifters. That will simplify things without too much additional cost. You can get new Shimano bar end shifters online for $56, so they should go for half that or so on eBay.

UPDATE 2

People who buy stuff on eBay are nuts. They are paying more for used bar end shifters than what new ones cost. Same model numbers and all. It makes no sense. I may have to buy new ones. Oh the shame.

Tinker Toys are not Lincoln Logs

This thought came to me during the third hour of the second day of a two day project planning session. Yes, two full days, one right after the other, sitting in a conference room, planning. Pity me hard buckos.

So which am I and/or my writing, Tinker Toy or Lincoln Log? You can build a much wider variety of things with Tinker Toys, but you can build much more realistic things with Lincoln logs, as long as you stick to the log cabin milieu.

I've thought about it and I find that my writing is more like Tinker Toys. Vivid in imagination but somewhat lacking in definition. On the other hand, I find the idea of Lincoln Loggish writing to be over-planned and limiting. Looks like I'm just going to have to switch to Legos.

My First Bike Build - The Mockup Begins

This is going surprisingly well. I need many fewer bits of hardware than I expected. The derailleurs went on with no problems. The bottom bracket fits. The seat actually does become much more rigid when attached to the seat post and the seat post fits into the whole and tightened up nicely. With seat and derailleurs attached it's actually starting to look like it might be a real bike by the time I'm done with it.

Next I put together the cranks, chain rings and bottom bracket. It all went together no problem. The black inner chain ring looks wonderfully out of place among all that chrome.

Then I started on the handlebars. The stem went on on the second attempt, the first attempt having failed because I had the thing backwards. Then came the first problem. (And I was doing so well!)

The aero bars don't fit. Well, to be accurate, the mounts are setup for a thinner handlebar. The handlebars I got bulge in the middle where the stem is mounted. I got these because they are what I got. I didn't really plan anything beyond making the numbers match and unfortunately the aero bars didn't have any numbers. Fortunately, it looks like all I need is some longer screws and perhaps some stiff plastic spacers. TO THE BIKE SHOP!

Three Chapters of Forgiveness

I read a lot of crap. After several years on a diet of books from the shelves of the local Goodwill stores I've run through most of the authors whose names I recognize. So I'm forced to experiment. There have been some wonderful surprises, many that were just OK, and several that made me wonder how such a book every made it to print. Lately I've had a string of the baddies. Two books in a row I was unable to finish. Both were abandoned half way through chapter four.

I have this rule, which I didn't realize I had till just this week. I can overlook just about any flaw for the first three chapters of a book, but if chapter four sucks, forget it. This rule became obvious to me with my current read. It's from the middle of a detective series I hadn't heard of, and the first three chapters were pretty bad. Endless tracks of exposition about back stories and settings and relationships. It was pretty dull and the setup for the crimes to come were obvious and cliched. I nearly didn't start chapter four, but I gave it one more chance and I'm glad I did. The whole tone and pacing of the book has changed for the better. It's as if the writers, a husband and wife team, took a collective deep breath after getting all the housekeeping out of the way and settled in to the meat of the writing.

So when you're spending about a buck a book, remember, there's a reason that book is on the thrift store shelf. Give it a break and wait at least three-and-a-half chapters before contributing it to your composter. You may be glad you did.