Issue 66

Welcome to Fiction, from the First Draft Forward, a little blurb about the undertaking of a fledgling writer going from first draft to querying agents and beyond.

So, you’ve made the decision that you’re going to do it. You’re going to pursue your dream, no matter the weird looks you get from family and friends. No matter the snide remarks, no matter the negativity, and no matter the obstacles that will arise (and there will be obstacles) you’re going to give this writing thing a serious go. It is that important to you, and you’re so determined you will do it alone if you have to. So you sit down and begin pouring your soul out in words on the page. There are ups and there are downs, but after weeks or months, maybe even years of writing, you complete your first manuscript.

You are triumphant! As you finish dancing your way through the house in your Santa pajamas that everyone had forgotten you still owned, and the euphoria begins to fade, you are faced with the question that all of us must ask: “Now that I’ve written the darn thing, what do I do with it?” Here, in this column, is where you’ll find the answer. Actually, it’s where we’ll find it together.

My name is Leatrice McKinney. My pen name is L. L. McKinney. Most people call me El or Tangynt, thanks to my inclination to… well, I’m sure you can guess. I am a writer, like you, and I have just completed my first manuscript. SWAYED is a religious fantasy in first draft form and is, from beginning to end, 393 pages long. On June 22, 2010, at 2:27 am, I typed the final word on that last page. I did back flips for the following 24 hours, and after that I spent just as much time doing research on what my next step should be. I am delighted to say that I found out more than I could have hoped, and this column is where I’m going to share all of it.

There are so many writers and professionals out there offering up their experiences and opinions, and I am going over countless blogs and websites taking in as much as I can. Some say that once you have a complete manuscript, the hard part is over. Others say that things have only just begun. Either way, I have nowhere to go but forward, and Fiction, from the First Draft Forward is where I’m going to spotlight that journey. I will make mistakes, I will hit dead ends, I’ll take a wrong turn at Albuquerque, but I made up my mind that I am going to get there and nothing is going to change it, just as I’m sure you’ve made up yours. We’ll discuss just about every avenue an author could take, from courses to contests, finding writing groups to attending conferences, and whatever else it takes. We will explore techniques on rewriting and revising first drafts until that manuscript is polished to shine. And then? The search for an agent begins.

From now until the query letters go out, this column will be a compilation of every tidbit of information I can squeeze into it about this process in its entirety. They say writing is a lonely endeavor, and it very well can be, but I am hoping to put an end to that in some small degree. Sometimes it helps just to know that there is someone else out there also faced with plenty of the same challenges we face, so the invitation is here: let’s go from A to Z together, step-by-step as best as can be prescribed by the industry, and I make a promise now that this will not just be about me and my work.

This is a journey every person who aspires to be a published writer must take, so it would be rather selfish of me to tailor it to my needs alone. An open line of contact will always be available so any and everyone can participate in the fun. If you have advice or tips, offer them. If you have questions, ask them. I will do my best to provide answers. At the very least I’ll find someone who does know the answer or sniff out the proper direction to point you. We’ll just avoid Albuquerque altogether.

One of the major rules in this particular profession is to write what you know, and what I know is this is where it starts. This is where every famous author in the history of the craft began, and this is where we begin as well. To celebrate the completion of SWAYED on my end, and the similar achievement on yours, I offer the first of many inspiring tidbits that will be included at the end of every entry:

"We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled. The trick is knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out."-Ray Bradbury

Happy writing.

L.L. McKinney is a freelance writer, a published poet and a playwright. As an active member of First Tuesdays and YA Lit Chat, she is currently seeking representation for her young adult paranormal urban fantasy, Swayed.

Attention: WritersNewsWeekly is preparing a series on the impact childhood books have on their young readers. If you’re an author interested in being interviewed, or if you think you have a unique perspective on the topic, contact us at submissions@writersnewsweekly.com.

With the arrival of the internet, writers have gained many benefits such as ways to save money and more access to publications we might not have otherwise known about. Unfortunately, the internet has also caused some of us to pick up some bad habits that could ultimately hurt us...

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Too Writerly for Words?

During grad school, a professor once accused me of lacking “scholarly and critical depth” when participating in classroom discussions. While he later apologized after learning of my complete unfamiliarity with the material for this course (that had no prerequisites, mind you), his comments continue to haunt me when approaching the subject of my own writing and my critical abilities as a writer.

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By Chris Phillips

Is there a point at which the rational can no longer be reconciled with the facts? How is one to judge the difference between what the senses reveal and what the spirit world shows?

Bence takes these questions and answers them for Sara Miller, her husband David, and their son Jack. This mystery, and perhaps even horror story, is a tale that grabs the reader and never lets go...

Read More

Welcome to Fiction, from the First Draft Forward, a little blurb about the undertaking of a fledgling writer going from first draft to querying agents and beyond.

Read More

WNW talks with author Brad Parks

We recently spoke with Brad Parks, author of Faces of the Gone, the first book in the Carter Ross Mystery series. Faces of the Gone is about Carter Ross, an investigative reporter who finds himself faced with discovering the true story behind a gory quadruple murder in the city.

Read More

During grad school, a professor once accused me of lacking “scholarly and critical depth” when participating in classroom discussions. While he later apologized after learning of my complete unfamiliarity with the material for this course (that had no prerequisites, mind you), his comments continue to haunt me when approaching the subject of my own writing and my critical abilities as a writer.

Being able to receive and make use of constructive criticism is one of the first pieces of advice generally given to writers who are just starting out in the business. Yet, in my experience, one never seems to receive very enlightening feedback in this respect other than endless elaborations of the “Writing/life is hard” or “Practice, practice, practice” mantras.

“A thick skin,” one writer friend told me, “comes not with the first spate of rejection letters, but rather with acceptance of the first revisions that you get.” To me, this seems tautological. After all, who wants to grade one’s own writing? I find it hard enough to judge other people’s work, which is something I’m required to do as a part of the editorial work I frequently do.

As a writer who owns a content-focused consultancy but continues to do her own freelance and academic work, I face two problems in relation to writing and criticism. First, there is the feedback cycle of writing and editing, in which work is written, criticized, revised, and finalized or rejected. Second, there is the eternal ethical dilemma over how one gauges quality writing, i.e. whether or not a written work is up to expected standards.

Like many writers who also function as editors, I constantly battle not only my own inner demons about writing, but also other people’s demons, too. I get criticism not only about my own work, but also that of other people as I give and receive feedback on various editorial projects. Having a chorus of critical voices in your head, of course, can be hugely distracting. It can cause you to lose focus not only on what you’re writing but also why you’re writing.

Then there is the issue of quality. How do you judge if what you’re writing or what you’re reading is good or meets expectations? I do a lot of educational writing related to curriculum and testing for which there are established standards. However, when I write or edit an article for a particular publication, I benchmark the quality of writing based on my understanding of the publication or intended audience in question. But, though I do my best to judge from my knowledge base and experience, I sometimes wonder about my own abilities as an educated authority, since, well, writing is a subjective art.

I thought for a while that starting my own business would help me become less attached to my own writing. Yet, it’s had the opposite effect. Since my paycheck now depends on what I write, I’m suddenly acutely conscious of the quality and focus of my writing. This applies equally to my freelance writing as well as the academic book I’m finishing, which, though not a major source of revenue, nonetheless is a product that represents, markets, and sells my abilities as a writer.

After surveying more experienced writers, there seems to be one simple solution for silencing inner demons and constructively handling criticism: writing. While hardly an original point, I keep coming back to the notion that if you’re doing what you love, the rest is worth it.

Even if it involves occasional fits of anxiety or panic about the fact that you, as a writer, are putting yourself out in front of the world, the power and joy of writing comes in the realization that people are reading and thus learning from the information that you communicate through your writing.

So, the next time those ghastly doubts come into your head about your writerly capabilities, remember that, despite what advice you may receive, it’s okay to be a little anxious. It means you’re a true writer.

Jessica Quillin owns Quillin Consulting, LLC, a consultancy in Washington, DC, focused on content development, research, and strategy for the public and private sectors. She holds a Ph.D. in English literature from the University of Cambridge.

By Laura Schultz

Often in a shroud of whispers
entrapped in a world of echoes
my inner companion
my muse
conveys its oracular interlude
as it saunters casually
randomly
beside me
adheres to my voice
and places me in bondage
to its whimsical fancies
 
Thy prosody
is powerfully controlling
my thoughts
my voice
my inner companion
always beside me
stroking the keys
stoking the embers
of words and plots
burning flames
beneath me
enter more deeply
and have no fear
I will not fight you
any longer

By Ryan Amfahr Longhorn

Contemporary writers face some hard aesthetic decisions between sincerity and marketing. The best fiction (and the best literary non-fiction and poetry, for that matter) is, in my opinion, a work conceived in solitude, carried to term in solitude, and reflecting the utmost respect for a reader’s intelligence and ability to empathize with genuine characters—a reflection and insight and set of choices made, also, in solitude. And this solitude will usually produce the most sincere writing you can muster—and by sincere I mean no sacrifice of narrative integrity to the gods of the one-liner that might go over well at a reading; simply, sincerity as the act of moving the reader without relying on gimmicks.

But when your work is completed you must sacrifice the privacy of the act of creation for publication to a readership of a few hundred to a few hundred thousand. You’ll be expected to give readings to a friendly but naturally skeptical audience. You’ll be interviewed. You’ll be asked standard questions on the origins of your ideas and what your work “means.” And it’s here that you make a difficult choice between aesthetic authenticity and popularity.

These are not necessarily mutually exclusive propositions. It’s entirely possible for a writer to be completely sincere in the solitary act of writing, and yet be incredibly popular with a large base of readers at the same time without reverting to narrative trickery. The problem young writers, or beginning writers face, comes on after attending their first reading where inevitably a weak writer steps up to the open mic and appeals to the crowd’s sense of politics (getting applause), or fires off a poem rife with humorous anecdotes about a lemon of a car (getting laughs), or reads an excerpt from a humorous but unoriginal story about sibling rivalry (getting laughs AND applause). And the young writer in the audience witnessing these breaks of applause and laughter may unfortunately get the impression that it’s more important to please the mob than to please the individual ethereal reader who inevitably ends the narrative process with a published book or story or poem in solitude. Writers write alone, and readers read alone.

But it’s impossible to discount the need to market one’s work. A writer in the 21st century competes with television, film, social networking, 24-hour news, and video games—all of which require nothing more than passivity. To read short fiction or poetry or labyrinthine novels requires work. Hard work. And lots of time. Given the competition, yeah, you’re going to need to make them laugh, you’re going to need to make them applaud, you’re going to, dare I say it, need to make them cry.

The prime difference between sincerity and trickery is that these ends can always be achieved regardless of your aesthetic disposition—it’s just a matter of the lasting impression on the reader or the audience.

The writer who uses gimmickry to entertain his base will drop some funny jokes, will get a few laughs, and might sell their work. But they’ll be forgotten quickly.

The writer who approaches the act of creation with humility, with indifference to high school-ish popularity contests at local readings, with a charge to produce the most solid work said writer can pull off, will—and I guarantee this—find a slowly building emotional response from readers and audiences who appreciate and respect the risk the writer has taken to expose his heart. You might not get a lot of laughs at your readings (at first), and the applause may be light afterward (at first), but you’ll find a good number of people quietly approaching later, over coffee, to give you props for what you’ve done.

If you’re a sincere writer, your reader will fall asleep and dream about your characters. They will spread word of your work to anyone who will listen. They will write you letters. You will find the buildup to notoriety slow and rife with insecurities but it will happen nonetheless.

And, if you’re a gimmick, you’ll get lots of attention for a few minutes and then largely be forgotten.

My prescription to you, if I may be so bold, is to ask you to take stock of who you are, why you write, what you intend to accomplish, and then, choose sides.

Ryan Amfahr Longhorn’s fiction has appeared in the North American Review and the Sandy
River Review. Longhorn is currently taking time off school to write his first novel. For more information about Mr. Longhorn, please visit his Twitter page.

By Meghan Morrow

The number of people writing novels and attempting to publish their work is growing with each passing month. As readers watch the accomplishments of authors such as J.K. Rowling or Stephenie Meyer, eager writers dream of experiencing the same success. I must admit that I am one of these enthusiasts.

Three years ago, after waking up from a particularly vivid dream, I began the journey into my novel and have since found myself practically incapable of being away from my computer. As most writers are aware, when inspiration sparks, there is little anyone can do to stamp out the fire. Many sleepless nights and phone calls to my sisters contributed to getting the story out of my head and onto paper, and though my schoolwork suffered slightly, nothing could keep me from my characters and the world I created for them.

Six months and three hundred pages later, my novel was complete and the editing process began. Little did I know that writing the story was the easy part. I spent hours, days, weeks fixing every little detail and mistake and, let me tell you, if you ever want to put your head through a wall, just try examining your own work several hundred times. You will reach that point of pure exhaustion before you know it.

The moment I felt the novel was ready (I won’t say it was perfect, because I still find changes to make), I dove into the process of getting my work published. After studying the business thoroughly, I discovered how naïve I’d been about the entire procedure. Seeing my novel in print wasn’t as easy as just packaging the manuscript in brown paper and sending it to a publisher; there was so much more involved, and it all started with writing query letters. None of my queries were the same and each had to meet the different requirements of the literary agents or publishers. Who knew you had to make a proposal to a prospective publisher before it went to print?—as a writer new to the industry, I certainly didn’t. The queries required compact, specific information—I had to mark if I had a single or multiple submissions; whether to add one, two, or three chapters, and sometimes none at all; find some way to compact the entire novel into a single page, and then to top it off, I had to sell myself as a reputable author. If I weren’t so infatuated with my characters, this step would have been enough to make me give up, but I continued the attempt to get my work out in the world.

My life has been dominated by learning every possible fact about publishing that I can find, from reading blog sites and newspapers to subscribing to writers assistance websites, and I am certain at the end of this entire project, I will be quite sick of anything that is even remotely related to writing.

There are so many hopeful writers in the world these days, but what is it that keeps them writing even after hearing the word “no” so many times it loses all meaning? Is it truly passion that pushes us, or is there some other determinant to keep the fire going? Anyone can put pen to paper and scribble down an idea that they believe to be spectacular, but only those who have the drive and dedication to the craft can genuinely create something magical.

My novel has yet to be published, though I keep my fingers crossed for the day I get my “big break.” Finishing the novel is an accomplishment itself, and I am sure my perseverance will pay of someday, and to all of the aspiring writers out there, I have only one piece of advice: do not let the rejections make you feel unworthy. It is in the complications in life that we find what we need to achieve greatness.

By Chris Phillips

Is there a point at which the rational can no longer be reconciled with the facts? How is one to judge the difference between what the senses reveal and what the spirit world shows?

Bence takes these questions and answers them for Sara Miller, her husband David, and their son Jack. This mystery, and perhaps even horror story, is a tale that grabs the reader and never lets go. When Sara’s father dies, her mother, Maria, tells Sara that she was adopted. Sara moves to a new place, some distance from NYC, to help her cope and adjust to her losses. There is plenty of room on the Miller’s new Virginia farm for horses to run, dogs to play, and a family to heal after a heartwrenching loss.

The tale begins when Sara finds a mirror in her new home, a farmhouse that was abandoned by the previous owner, Patrick McHugh. The McHughs are a mysterious family that conceals much tragedy and darkness from the community. The mirror reveals things that Sara cannot explain. Even Jack, her son, sees images in it that only hint at the mystery behind it. Then a few boxes of old books are found with a book that is locked and tantalizingly attractive.

As the story progresses, other occurrences begin to build into a hodgepodge of hints and dark feelings. Sara and Maria, who’s far away in NYC, both experience nightmares. Tragedy strikes again, but this time history is repeated with the possibility of a more positive result. All this adds up to difficulty and grief for Sara and her family.

Bence’s characters are so real and finely wrought that family portraits appear in the reader’s head. Sara, of course, is very well developed. Donna, Sara’s aunt, slowly reveals secrets from the past until she comes to the rescue with important information at the last minute. Emma, a horse handler on the farm, is British, clipped, and very wise. Carlos, the farm hand, although quiet and unobtrusive, shows human compassion and caring in multiple scenes. David, Sara’s husband, struggles with visions he cannot understand and with nightmares that terrify Sara and keep him worried about her and Jack. They all begin to wonder why they moved to the house and why it is now so frightening. Jack fills out the family as the good son who experiences a series of accidents that parallel the nightmares that Sara is having.

The plot is thoroughly twisted and yet very tightly maintained. When in the course of the story the dreams and visions begin to come, they are so forceful and traumatic that they impede real life. Soon, logical responses no longer matter and spiritual ones take over. Bence is able to weave a complicated and intricate tale while maintaining flow and consistency.

Midnight Revelations is a great read, and this reviewer cannot recommend it heartily enough. It was a pleasure to read from cover to cover. Many times it was difficult to put the book down and return to real life. Bence has some real experience with grief and presents a wonderful and satisfying course for others to follow when grieving. She also deals with adoption and birth parents very practically. Any reader should enjoy and learn from this book.

By Carole Shmurak

Of all the grande dames of the Golden Age of British mystery writing, New Zealander Ngaio Marsh is the one I’ve read least. Somehow her protagonist, Roderick Alleyn, never captured my imagination or my loyalty the way that Lord Peter Wimsey or Albert Campion did. But now I find myself tracking down Marsh’s books and devouring them to make up for lost time.

Though Clutch of Constables was written in 1968, a good twenty years after the Golden Age of British mystery ended, it has all the hallmarks of a Golden Age novel: a small cast of eccentric characters, any one of whom is a likely suspect, a clever amateur detective, and even a plodding police inspector — but is he really the plodder that he appears to be? There’s even a map and the cast of characters at the front of the book.

Troy Alleyn, the famous painter and wife of Superintendent Roderick Alleyn, decides on impulse to take a short river cruise while her husband is off on a trip of his own. Once on board the Zodiac riverboat, she finds that the person whose cancelled reservation enabled her to get a room at the last minute has been found murdered in London. Soon after the cruise begins, another passenger drowns. Was she also murdered? Troy’s letters to Alleyn convince him that she too may be in danger, and that one of her fellow passengers may be the notorious criminal Foljambe, aka The Jampot.

The reader gets a clue early on that Foljambe has a physical attribute that immediately identifies him, though what it is isn’t revealed. Naturally, it turns out that every passenger on the boat has some notable feature; one is black, one has a “not unattractive cast” in one eye, one walks with a limp, one is missing an eye, and one wears a hearing aid. So which one is Foljambe?

The pace of the book may seem slow to readers used to slam-bang action, but I found this leisurely cruise down the unnamed River an intriguing and entertaining read.

Carole B. Shmurak, Ph.D., is the co-author of the Matty Trescott series of young adult novels, one of which was nominated for the 2001 Agatha Award for Best YA Mystery. Her book Voices of Hope was named "Critic's Choice" by the American Educational Studies Association. Deadmistress, the first book in the Susan Lombardi series, was named a Notable Book of 2004 by Writers' Notes Magazine.

By Sarah Schiavoni and Christopher Stokum

We recently spoke with Brad Parks, author of Faces of the Gone, the first book in the Carter Ross Mystery series. Faces of the Gone is about Carter Ross, an investigative reporter who finds himself faced with discovering the true story behind a gory quadruple murder in the city.

WNW: As a journalist [with The Washington Post and The (Newark, NJ) Star-Ledger], you covered a quadruple murder in New Jersey which proved to be influential when writing Faces of the Gone. Have other real life news stories worked their way into your stories?
Parks: When have they not? One of the great things about being a journalist was the wealth of subject material thrust on me. Meeting strange and wonderful people, learning new things, seeing new places – that was all in a day’s work. And it’s become the bedrock upon which my fiction is built. I steal bits and pieces from my reporting days and stick them in my novels all the time. The second Carter Ross novel – while not based on one crime in particular – draws heavily on reporting I did about the subprime mortgage scandal. Oh, and, of course, political corruption (there’s just a little bit of that in Jersey).

WNW: Looking at your website, we can see you have quite a sense of humor. How do you incorporate your humor into gritty crime stories?
Parks: I wear one of those arrow-through-the-head jobbers and write while sitting on a whoopee cushion. Pfffft! Okay, seriously now folks… Actually, that’s just it. As a human being, I’m just serially incapable of being serious for long stretches. So, especially early in a book, when the plot is still taking shape, I find myself taking my characters on little humorous side trips that, while somewhat germane to the story, are really just there for entertainment purposes. I think it helps that my characters are newspaper reporters. Newsrooms are dens of gallows humor. A story about the most awful disaster imaginable can be breaking and it doesn’t take more than about five minutes for someone to crack a joke about it. I suppose it’s a coping mechanism of some sort. That, and we’re just wiseasses.

WNW: Looking through your cast of characters, it seems as if you have characters that are stock on the surface but are actually more complicated than they initially appear. Did you intend to play with stereotypes in this way when you wrote the book?
Parks: Whoah. That’s deep. Can you send a copy of this to the New Yorker so maybe they’ll consider me for their next 20 Best Writers Under 40? (See what I mean about not being serious?) But, actually to answer the question, quickly: Yeah. That’s exactly what my characters are. I know there’s a school of writing – I think it’s out in Iowa somewhere – that says your characters should never, ever be stereotypes. But I think people often start out as stereotypes when you first meet them. They only get complicated when you get to know them. Plus, sometimes the hooker really does have a heart of gold.

WNW: Between your website, articles and interviews, you do a lot of promotional work. How important to you think this has been to the success of your novel?
Parks: That’s a very nice way of calling me a whore, isn’t it? That’s okay. I’ll take it. To quote my father, the former typewriter salesman: Nothing happens until somebody sells something. I know some of my fellow writers bemoan it – because, what, it’s beneath them or something? – but I think of the promotional stuff as being part of the modern author’s job. So you can either gripe about it, which doesn’t change the need to do it; or you can accept it and embrace it, which is what I’ve done. Mostly, I think I do it for survival. I love being an author, and I know I’ll only get to continue doing it if my sales numbers are good. Plus, the broader my audience becomes, the more I get to share my words. And that’s the reason I became a writer in the first place.

WNW: Compared to journalism, what is your relationship with your readers like as a novelist?
Parks: It’s much, much more intimate. There is a one-on-one aspect to the author-reader relationship that doesn’t exist in journalism or other forms of media. If you’re reading an article in a newspaper, what you’re really seeing is a collaborative effort. The story may have been pitched by one editor, modified by another editor, molded further by the reporter, then changed altogether as it goes through the editing process on the back end. The same is true in, say, television or movies: The story is a combination of a screenwriter’s words, a director’s vision, an actor’s interpretation and so on. Not so in novels, where it’s just you and me, the reader and the writer. And we’re both equally important players, because, sure, I tell the story, but it only comes alive in your imagination as you read the words and turn the pages. So there’s a shared experience there. And, yes, I enjoy the hell out of it. Just today (I’m writing this Thursday, June 24, 2010) I had a conversation with a woman in my local coffee shop who told me she read my novel twice and enjoyed it more the second time because she wasn’t just racing through to the end, but really savoring some of the details. Hello! If I heard that every day for the rest of my life, I’d die a happy man.

WNW: Do you think you preserved any kind of readership in your move from journalism to fiction? Have you received feedback on your book from former readers of your newspaper articles?
Parks: I’d like to think so, in the same way I’d like to think that someday I’ll have six-pack abs and be able to dunk a basketball. But the reality is I’m soft in the middle and can barely touch the rim. In the same way, I think most newspaper readers ignore bylines – to the point where I had neighbors, who knew I worked at the newspaper, come up to me and start telling me about this interesting story they read. And I’d be like, “Uh, yeah, I know, I wrote it.” There have probably been a few people in The Star-Ledger circulation area who picked up the book and thought the name “Brad Parks” sounded vaguely familiar. But only in my fantasies are there large numbers of people out there who have been devouring my every word across multiple media. And I think if you asked any other newspaper reporter-turned novelist – Michael Connelly, Laura Lippman – they’d say the same thing. Readership-wise, you basically start fresh as a novelist.

WNW: How do you balance the work involved in being a novelist and a stay-at-home dad?
Parks: Two words: Reliable daycare. I’m amazed by parents of little ones who can write during naptime or in the evening after the kids are in bed. I can’t. I have help. I also have an incredibly supportive wife and in-laws/parents who pick up the slack when I’m on the road. It really takes a village to raise an author… uh, child.

WNW: What has your experience working with a large publisher like St. Martin’s Press been like?
Parks: How could I not love it? I know we’re all supposed to be moving toward this democratic utopia where we’re all self-published on e-books and there are no gatekeepers and the readers make buying decisions based on the quality of the work itself and blah-blah-blah. But, in the meantime, being able to throw around the name St. Martin’s Press – and its crime fiction imprint, Minotaur Books – has really opened doors for me. At risk of sounding too crassly commercial, it’s a brand that really means something to people. And I actually believe that as the publishing world gets more confusing – and there are more people going it on their own across more platforms – having someone like St. Martin’s Press in your corner becomes more, not less, important. And, sure, there’s a bit of that little-fish-big-pond thing going on. But it’s an awfully nice pond.

WNW: What opportunities have you encountered as a novelist that you did not as a journalist?
Parks: I’m not sure it qualifies as an “opportunity,” but it’s still a little weird that people are actually happy to see me. When I was a journalist, it wasn’t unusual that I would end up talking to people on one of the worst days of their lives. Something bad had happened to them or to someone they loved, and there I was to ask them all about it. I got a lot of doors slammed in my face. Funny, that hasn’t happened once at a library or bookstore signing.

WNW: What, if anything, do you miss about working in the newspaper business?
Parks: The immediacy. In my old life, when I wrote a story, it was in the newspaper the next day (or online within the hour), and readers would be reacting to it – to love it or hate it – almost instantly. I remember one Valentines’ Day, I wrote a story about a man who loved to dance with his wife and kept dancing with her across 60 years of marriage. She died in the end, of course – hey, I didn’t say it was a happy story – but really it was just a tribute to a beautiful partnership that lasted a lifetime. I got into work the next morning and already had 27 voice mails, and the calls kept coming in all day long. I knew immediately that story had touched people. Now? I’m just putting the finishing touches on a book that will be out in 2012. And I’m about to start writing a book that will come out in 2013. By the time people get a chance to react to a particular passage, I may or may not even remember writing it. That said? I wouldn’t trade my new life for anything. I’m enjoying it way too much.

For more information about Brad Parks, his book Faces of the Gone, and his upcoming books, please visit his website or Twitter page.