Andrew Colson never intended to kill anyone. The dead that haunted his childhood had other plans.
The first ghost to appear to him was Billy Jumper, a four-year-old special needs child murdered by his stepfather in a drunken fit. Billy was followed by Sarah Lockingham and Janie Whiteside, then the one person who he loved most, his father.
After the death of a close friend, Andrew learns what the ghosts want from him and sets out to fulfill their needs. In doing so, Andrew discovers a devastating truth that may push him beyond setting things right for the dead. It might lead him to revenge.
Coming to an e-reader in your hands or get your hard copy on September 13th.
(This is a rather long post, one where I talk about some of my writing and how I feel about some of those things. However, this isn’t just about writing. It’s about everything you do in life that brings you joy, which leads to happiness.)
I wrote a book a couple of years ago titled, Simply Put. It’s my thoughts on writing, on the craft, on telling stories, and on the things they don’t tell you coming into this business. They are, simply put, my opinions. It is not a how to book. Sure, there are some tips about writing, things I’ve learned along the way, but it’s not a book that teaches writing stories. I’m not a professor at a college who teaches writing and all its little nuances, so I don’t really feel I am qualified to say, ‘hey, do it this way or it’s wrong.’ Besides, I don’t believe in ‘do it this way or it’s wrong.’
Simply Put was set to come out mid-2020, but when the world went into shutdown mode, I decided to push it, and three other books back to 2021. As I sit here today typing this, I’m not so certain Simply Put is ready to be released. Don’t get me wrong. It’s been edited sixteen times. It’s gone through massive overhauls and rewrites. I’ve even taken a lot of snark out because I don’t think the sarcasm and snark are warranted in many places or will serve a purpose.
Though a year ago I believed Simply Put was ready, now … now I don’t know if it will ever be ready. I’m not sure how I am going to explain this but let me try.
When I decided to get published—or attempted to—I thought I was a good writer. I was wrong. I had several people tell me I was. They were wrong. Those same people said, ‘you should try to get published.’ They meant well and they stroked my ego by suggesting that. Before I continue, I want you to understand something about writing: don’t listen to people you trust when it comes to publishing. Most of those people say you are a good writer because they don’t want to hurt your feelings. They are lying to you, just as they lied to me. They suggest things like ‘you should get published’ knowing fully you probably won’t pursue that avenue. Unless, of course, you do, and by then it’s too late for them to say, ‘oh, by the way, you really suck.’
Though I was wrong about being a good writer, I wasn’t wrong about being a good storyteller. That I have always been good at. When I really want to tell a story, I can do so with flare and humor and I don’t need the written word to do it. I could have been a comedian and told funny stories to crowds of eight or fewer at open mic night at whatever local bar was open at the time. I could have entertained with the oral word (get your minds out of the gutter …).
I may not have been an even halfway decent writer when I started out—I don’t think anyone is—but one element about it was also what pushed me to try and get published. I enjoyed it. The act of writing was fun and exciting. I could visualize things on the silver screen in my head as I typed or handwrote the words. I could watch events unfold for the first time and have the excitement of it all play out before me. Reaching the end of the story and signing my initials and dating the story always brought me great satisfaction. The accomplishment made me happy, but the process of writing brought me joy.
Publishing was the logical next step, even if others hadn’t suggested it. Again, I believed I was good enough to get published. For the record, you should never be ‘good enough.’ Never. Ever. You should always be good, great, awesome, amazing, brilliant, but not ‘enough.’ Enough is like being second place in a two person contest. I know that sounds harsh, but ‘enough’ is not really good. It’s barely getting by, it’s meeting the minimum to not fail. So, first lesson to this post: Never be just ‘enough.’ Never be average when you can be amazing. Oh, and don’t ask ‘what’s wrong with average?’ or say ‘this is who I am.’ Those are excuses to not try.
So, I was an average writer wanting to be an above average author who really didn’t know what I was doing and who didn’t take the time to or put in the effort to become a better writer. I was just good enough.
For several years I couldn’t get published. I was rejected time and time again until a now defunct webzine published one of my stories. It was called, Diane’s A Whore and Simeon’s Payback. It was truly atrocious. The title alone makes me cringe now. Ah, but getting that story published made me happy, got me excited. It was like a drug and I wanted more of that euphoric high.
I wrote more bad stories and got published by more bad webzines looking for content they didn’t have to pay much for. Each time I received an acceptance it fed my addiction to get published again and again and again. Hearing someone wanted to publish one of my stories, then seeing it on the computer screen on a webzine intensified that euphoria.
I continued to write, but this time, I didn’t just write a handful of stories a year. For those who didn’t know me in the early 2000s you might find this hard to believe but From 2006-2009 I wrote an average of 126 short stories a year. That’s not including poems, haiku, songs, limericks, novels, blog posts and all the things I didn’t finish. That’s just short stories. Of those 504 stories, maybe a hundred were good. Maybe half that number were good enough. The rest? Slop.
Though probably 350 or so of those stories weren’t that great, the process of writing and writing so much in such a short period of time was immensely satisfying. I found great joy in the process of creating characters and putting them in crappy situations to see how they managed to survive if they survived.
I want you to remember one word in that last paragraph for just a little later. JOY. Forget everything else. Okay, well, don’t forget everything else. Just remember JOY.
In 2010, I changed my entire concept—the very idea—of how I was writing. I wrote less stories, but they were longer and fleshed out and the characters were believable. My enJOYment of writing grew, even as I wrote fewer pieces.
In January of 2012, my first book, Along the Splintered Path, was published by Dark Continents Publishing. I was excited. I was ecstatic. A publisher wanted to put out a book written by me. Sign me up, buttercup.
In November and December of 2011 and on into early 2012, I had a serious bout of pneumonia. It was bad. Really, really bad. Though I was so sick I would cough until I threw up, and I couldn’t lay down in my bed for nearly two months, I worked on the edits to ATSP and got them back to my editor as quickly as I could.
The book came out, the reviews were good, the sales were decent, and I was happy. I did interviews to promote the book and things were looking up. Then someone asked me if I planned to put out anything else. More importantly, they said, ‘In order to stay relevant in this business, you need to constantly have new books for the readers to get their hands on.’
What? Relevant? You mean one very good book isn’t going to catapult me to fame and fortune?
In October of 2012, I released Southern Bones, a collection of 11 short stories. It was the first time I put out a book myself. The process of putting the stories together, editing and getting cover art and learning to format and upload the ebook, then the print version was exhilarating. I was excited and happy with what I had done. With my second book out there, I thought, ‘hey, I’ll get more readers and things will be even better than they are right now.’
That didn’t happen. I did a handful of interviews, but the book didn’t do that well in either sells or reviews. My happiness waned. ‘It’s a good book,’ I lamented. ‘Why aren’t people buying it?’
‘You need a novel,’ someone answered.
‘Yeah, that’s the ticket,’ I thought. I already had several novels written, but one in particular, stood out. Cory’s Way came out in December of 2014, just in time for Christmas. It did well. It still does well. It is our best-selling book to date.
I have put out quite a few books since then, some of which you may have read. Each time a book went out, I was happy. Happy. Happy.
Happy is a fleeting feeling. You accomplish something and you become happy for a minute, then you have to accomplish something else to keep that happiness. You say to yourself, ‘If I only had more money or a better job or a spouse, I will be happy.’ Then you get a better job and it pays you more money and you meet the man or woman of your dreams while working there and get married. You’re happy for a while. Then it wanes. You don’t like the job as much as you used to, you want a raise, and maybe the things you overlooked while dating the man or woman of your dreams you have a hard time overlooking now. Happiness is such a fleeting feeling.
Do you remember that word I mentioned a few paragraphs up? If not, scroll up and you will find it. I will wait.
Do you have the word? Okay. Say it with me: JOY.
Joy and being Happy are similar but are two different things.
Happy is feeling or showing pleasure, contentment, according to the Oxford Languages dictionary. A lot of times happy comes after getting something you want or accomplishing something or even marrying someone. It is also fleeting.
Joy is slightly different: A feeling of pleasure and happiness. What brings you joy? Your job? What is it about your job that brings you that joy? Money? What is it about money that brings you that joy? Your spouse? What is it about your spouse that brings you joy?
Do you follow me so far? Okay, let’s take this a step further.
Enjoyment is the state or process in taking pleasure in something. Right smack dab in the middle of the word enjoyment is the word JOY. Joy is active during the process of doing something. It is called enjoyment for a reason. What do you enjoy doing? What is it that brings you joy?
For me, for the longest time, it was writing and telling stories. The act of telling a story still excites me. However … let’s go back to another thing I said earlier. ‘In order to stay relevant in this business, you need to constantly have new books for the readers to get their hands on.’
Talk about putting pressure on yourself. I took that to heart when it was told to me. I would get antsy if I went too long without a new release. I got frustrated when the books weren’t selling, or the reviews weren’t coming. I kept asking ‘why?’ and not having any logical answers. I promoted the works and even started promoting months in advance. I checked my Amazon numbers obsessively. I checked to see if there were new reviews daily. I questioned myself on whether the books I released were any good. I revamped my social media pages and turned my blog into a full-blown website, all in hopes of driving people to my various pages and upping the sells of books.
The happiness of a new release was no longer there. It was replaced with ‘I hope this one does better.’ The addictive euphoria was gone. Still, one thing hadn’t really changed: the joy of the process of writing a new story and creating a new book. It waned some and there was a time or six I thought it had died. It didn’t, but it was on life support.
Happiness is fleeting, but joy is always there, even if we don’t realize it, even if we push it out the way because our pursuits and our goals changed.
I put pressure on myself to create stories people would want to read, to put out books that would be good and do well. I put pressure on myself to get readers and reviews and create posts about books on social media and create marketing materials. A lot of writers do. A lot of writers buy into being relevant. A lot of writers buy into the idea of publishing, so much so, they lose the enjoyment of why they write in the first place.
Why? Why do we do this? My only answers are money, success and … validation. Yes, validation. Writers need publishers and readers and reviews to validate that they are worth a damn at putting words together. It’s not enough to know we are good at this. We need to be told. And that’s the most damning thing of it all. Validation outside of our own minds is the driving force behind so many writers.
I love writing. I love telling stories. I love the process of putting word after word after word to create sentences that form paragraphs that lead to worlds being opened in my mind and characters being created. I love the act of writing, the process of writing. It is what I enjoy doing. That never fails for me.
I do not love publishing. I do not love marketing. I do not enjoy the obsession of reviews and hoping readers will find me.
Creating … creating brings me massive enjoyment. No, it’s not a euphoric high like publishing used to be for me. But it brings me such satisfaction that I want the world to read my stories.
Recently on Facebook I posted part of a review for my dark collection of stories, Voices. The review was from Scream Magazine and it was extremely good—one of the best reviews I have ever received. Yet sells and more than a handful of reviews didn’t happen for Voices. I was frustrated that one of the best collections I’ve put together had done so poorly. It took the words of a long-time friend and someone I admire to set my mind where it needed to be, to make me think about what I was doing and why I was doing it. Here is what my friend, Frank, said:
‘I say that is an excellent review and you shouldn’t overthink it. Unless, of course, what you lust after most in your authorial life is to write for “everyone.”’ And then, ‘Provided you’re content with the quality of what you’ve done … The review you posted flat out confirms you were right about the collection, no ifs ands or buts. The rest is just a crapshoot outside of your control.’
The idea of publishing is grand, and everyone now has the capability of doing it themselves if they choose not to go through a publisher. The idea of publishing so often leads to the need of validation from publishers, readers and other authors who can give us blurbs and help us push our books. The idea of publishing has also ruined the dreams of many writers. Outside of the actual writing and publishing, everything is a crapshoot outside of your control. As writers we overthink things and so many of us small press writers are left scratching our heads and asking ‘why?’
After writing the last 2600 words I no longer believe Simply Put is ready to be released. There needs to be an understanding that you should never let publishing a book or lack of sells and reviews hinder the enjoyment of writing and telling the story. But this isn’t just about writing. It’s about life. Don’t let anything hinder what you enjoy doing. Joy is an active thing. You can actively be joyful and when you are, happiness follows and tends to last longer. And isn’t that what we all want in life? Joy and happiness?
I am writing some of the best stories I have ever written. That joy of writing had been on life support, but now it’s off the respirator and getting its strength back. The joy of creating a book is back and there are several in the works with titles such as The Color of Sorrow and Grim as well as a possible three book set down the road. I still enjoy the process—I’m probably more excited than I have been in a while to create books, then release them. I think you’re going to like what’s coming, starting with Five Deaths on January 12th. I also think everything outside of writing the story is a crapshoot.
If you’re doing something you used to love and you now longer love it, then you, like me, have probably altered your plans and goals and have forgotten what brings you joy. Be joyful in what you do. It leads to the happiness we all desire, but it also shows in your work. Readers and fans of any type of art can tell when something is forced and when the love of it is gone.
This has been one of the longest post I’ve written, and if you are still here, thank you for indulging me.
Until we meet again my friends, be joyful, kind and happy.
Good morning Type AJ Negativites. Negativites? Really? That’s the best you can do, Mr. Writer Dude? Yeah, it’s lame.
This is going to be a short post.
There are two things on the agenda today: Five Deaths and a poll.
First, after months of pushing back the release of my latest novel, Five Deaths, we are going to go forward with the release on January 12th, 2021. More to come in the near future. Stay tuned.
Second, we all know why y’all come here. For the free beer. What? We don’t serve beer here? Really? Hmmm … that might be why attendance is down. How about for the stories? Y’all come here for stories, right? With it being October, I wanted to do a little poll. Who wants a Halloween story this year on Type AJ Negative? Click a response on the poll below. I will leave it up until October 20th.
That’s all I have for today. See, I told you it would be short. Seriously. That’s it. Stop scrolling. The post is done. Go vote. Seriously.
Until we meet again, be kind to one another.
Stop scrolling … vote on the poll. Seriously, this is the end of the post.
I woke up this morning at 4:38. That might seem early. I’ve been somewhat of an insomniac for a huge chunk of my life, but I’ve been sleeping well since mid-January. I don’t know why, but I won’t complain about it. So, there I was, awake and thinking I would go back to sleep. I didn’t. I finally got up just before 5:30.
I let my dog out and started the coffee. As I waited, I sat on the couch and stared at the blank television. Sometimes when I can’t sleep, I just sit, not focused on anything, my mind silent for several minutes. Eventually, the brain wakes up and I find myself, not thinking, but reflecting on life, on things I want to accomplish, on where I feel I should be at this point in my life. This morning was no different.
I thought about my dad, who is dealing with heart failure. I thought about my job, a place I haven’t been happy at in a long while. I thought about how sore I was from being under the house for most of the day before. I thought about writing and how much I wish I could afford to do this for a living.
Then my mind shifted gears. I thought about how people hate each other. I thought about how politicians wage war on each other and divide our country. I thought about the little girl who was kidnapped and later found dead earlier this month—she was from my hometown and I know the area she lived and died in. I thought about the young man who had been found dead in the woods not far from where he was last seen four years ago. He had been a friend of my brother-in-law. My mind could have been the video for Billy Joel’s We Didn’t Start the Fire.
I don’t understand our country, our world. I don’t understand why we are so divisive. Opinions used to be just that: opinions. We used to be able to have them without others getting upset about it. Anger seems to be an issue with people these days—it’s everywhere you look. We’re an angry world, and I fear that will be the downfall of mankind.
I write dark stories. Sometimes I write certain stories to understand the psychology behind motives and actions. I don’t write them to justify a means to what someone would do, but to understand why they would do these things.
The first line of my soon to be released novel, Five Deaths, is quite telling of what the book is about and the mindset of the main character:
I’ve committed five murders in my life, all of them justifiable.
The main character, Andrew Colson, goes onto to tell the story of those five murders. In his mind, all five are justified, but are they really? For me, it was a look into the mind of what could be considered a serial killer. Is he a serial killer? Well, I’ll let you figure that out for yourselves when the book comes out.
Back to my thoughts. I’ve learned its easy to be mean to people, to insult those different from us, to cheat and steal and care only about ourselves and those in our immediate circle. It’s easy to intimidate people and hurt people. We see it on the news every day from local events all the way up to our government and to events around the world. Sadly, it seems like kindness, humility and love are falling by the wayside. Can we reverse this trend? I hope so. I hope so.
2.2 My Summer Vacation by Jimmy Lambert
My third novel, My Summer Vacation by Jimmy Lambert, is slated for a mid-March release in print form. Yes, you read that right. I am releasing the print version of this novel first. In April, I will release the e-book version for those who prefer using e-readers, such as a Kindle.
I hope to have a few book signings for My Summer Vacation by Jimmy Lambert, mostly in the South Carolina area, but hopefully in Georgia and North Carolina, as well.
The following is the synopsis for the novel.
On the third day of summer vacation in 1979, three boys walked along the side of a road, laughing, talking about baseball cards, swimming at Booger’s Pond and Sarah Tucker, the prettiest girl in school. How could they know a few minutes later one of them would be dead, one crippled and one about to face the worse summer of his life?
Wrongly accused of a crime he didn’t commit, Jimmy Lambert is sent to The Mannassah Hall Institute for Boys. On his first day there, Doctor William English strikes him. It would be the first of many Jimmy would suffer at the hands of guards and inmates. Fighting back is an option, but could it have dire consequences?
As Jimmy loses hope, two unlikely people come to his aid. Will they be in time to save him from the bullies at The Mannassah Hall Institute for Boys? Or will they be too late?
I’m excited about the storyline and I will give y’all more details as the release date gets finalized.
2.3 Simply Put
Another book, Simply Put, is more of a theory on writing and rules and some of the things they don’t tell you about when you get into the business of publishing, is set to be released on March 31st. Though there are a few chapters about writing, this is not a how-to book on writing. A lot of the things in Simply Put are my observations in the publishing world. There are a handful of short stories throughout the book as well.
I have put off releasing Simply Put for almost three years, unsure if I even wanted to put it out. Who wants to read a book about writing and storytelling and publishing from someone who is not a bigtime author? Maybe no one. But that is okay.
Simply Put will not be released in e-book format. As of this writing, it will be a print book only deal.
One more thing about this and I will move on: I chose March 31st as the release date for Simply Put because my friend, Jennifer Miller, who wrote a piece for this book, passed away on that date in 2019. I miss her, our conversations about life and writing and dreams. I will release it on that day in honor of her.
2.4 For the Love of Coffee
My house on Valentine’s Day morning:
I received a sweet card from Cate. The first line said, “I love you more than coffee.”
This was a red flag moment for me. I went to my wife and said, “I’m not so sure you love me more than coffee.”
She smiled. “I do love you more than coffee,” she said. “Well, maybe it’s a close tie.”
The Boy, having heard this conversation: “Dang, Dad, you lost to coffee.”
Yes, son, yes, I did.
2.5 Everything is Life, Everything is a Story
Go back to part 2.1 up above for a second. I mentioned Five Deaths, a novel that is slated for release later this year. This story is less about the supernatural and more about real life, about revenge and love and sadness.
The inspiration for this story was partially based on a short story I wrote titled, Picket Fences. If you have read it, then you know it is about a man who builds picket fences around graves in honor of his deceased sister. There’s also a kernel of reality in the inspiration to Five Deaths. When I was a child, I read about a man who killed his autistic stepson in an eerily similar way Billie Jumper died in Five Deaths. I remember how horrible I felt after reading about it in the newspaper. What I don’t remember is what happened to the stepfather. My mind created a scenario for what could possibly happen and that scenario made it into Five Deaths. It was based in real life.
When I write, I try to make things as close to real to life as possible, even if it has supernatural or impossible elements to it. At the end of the day, everything is about life. Everything, good or bad, is about life, living and dying. And in that same vein, everything about life is also a story. Some of the best stories I have written over the years comes from the mundane, every day events of life. This is why our focus this year is on Everything is Life, Everything is a Story. #everythingislifeeverythingisastory. If you tag me in anything on social media, do you mind using this hashtag?
Thank you for reading today. I hope you enjoyed this post. Also, please share this post and leave comments. I appreciate it.
As always, until we meet again, my friends, be kind to one another.
So often when a new year begins we reflect on the one that has passed. We take a moment to highlight the goods and some of the bads that transpired over the previous 365 days. It’s a bit of reminiscing, but quite often it is more regret than anything. I’m not doing that this year. There are two things I want to state in this piece, both of which have to do with my writing.
First, I know I haven’t posted much in the last three or so months. I realized something last year, something I did for a long time because, well, honestly I didn’t want to lose the few readers I have here on Type AJ Negative. Sometimes I posted things just to post them, just to keep my name in your minds and on your lips.
The way social media works is a simple concept I think we all understand: out of sight, out of mind. The belief of many people in the business of business is if you are not constantly putting out content you will become irrelevant and disappear from the view of customers. With that in mind, I wrote blogs and posted them, sometimes a few times a week, in hopes that you, the reader, will not forget me, the writer with the handful of followers. It’s almost like panicking. ‘If I don’t put out content now I will lose readers. Put it out. Put it out. PUT IT OUT!!’
It gets to the point where putting out content is not fun. One of the reasons I write blogs and books and funny things on social media is because I want to have fun doing it. I want to enjoy the process of growing a fan base. But when I put pressure on myself, what I put out isn’t all that great. That includes blog posts.
When I realized some of the content I was putting out was meaningless, I got aggravated with myself. That is not what I set out to do. I set out to inform and entertain, not to put out mindless drivel. So, I stopped writing blogs for a while, putting out only one, I think, in the last ten weeks, and that one was important to me. That’s why I wrote it and shared it with you.
Here is the deal: I’m not going to put out things that don’t matter or that don’t inform or entertain you in some way. I want to reach you, the reader, but I don’t want to do so out of worry that if I don’t write one or two pieces each week you will leave. I will write my blogs when I have something to say. Yes, I know that means my numbers will go down. It is what it is. For those of you who stay, I thank you.
Now, the second thing is much better than the first. Though I haven’t written many blogs in the last few months, I have been writing and I have been editing and I have been working on quite a few projects. That means real content will be coming to y’all in the form of books this year. Here are a few things coming your way in the next year or so:
Interrogations, a Hank Walker novella, is in the process of going to print. It should be ready to put in your hands any day now.
Five Deaths, a novel about ghosts, revenge and love. Oh yeah, this is one you’re going to want to get your hands on.
The One Left Behind, a novella about love, death and determination. I’m starting to see a theme here.
My Summer Vacation by Jimmy Lambert. This is another novel, not put out by Jimmy Lambert, but by me. The story is about Jimmy Lambert, a twelve-year-old boy who should have enjoyed his summer with two good friends, only to have his entire world pulled out from under him by a drunk driver, a crooked legal system and Doctor William English, the head of a boys institute who takes an instant dislike to our hero, Jimmy. Recently, I asked someone to read it. She sent me back a note stating: This story broke my heart.
Other possibilities for 2020:
Simply Put, my thoughts on telling stories and the business of it. No, this is not a how to book, but kind of an anti-how to book. It has quite a few of my philosophies, not on writing, but on storytelling, including what I call The Primary Colors of Writing. Oh, and this book has quite a few short stories laced throughout its pages.
Suzie Bantum’s Death, a novella about a woman who committed suicide by jumping into a swollen river. What caused her to take her life this way? One man sets out to find answers and he may have bitten off more than he bargained for.
Southern Darkness, The Collection. This one I’m not sure about yet. Last year I did a subscription similar to The Brown Bag Stories. There are four editions, meaning four stories. Folks paid for the subscription and I have sent out the stories on a quarterly basis. However, I’m thinking of adding one or two stories to the original four and putting out a collection. If I do this, the readers who did the subscription will get a significant discount if they purchase the print book with the extra stories in it. This is one I still haven’t decided on yet.
Okay, I guess I have said all I have to say for now. No need to drag it out, right?
Oh, one more thing: if you have read any of my books and you have not written a review for them, would you mind doing so? I would greatly appreciate it.
As always, until we meet again, my friends, be kind to one another.