Just Cause is a new superhero novel by Ian Thomas Healy recently published by New Babel Books. (Congratulations to Ian, the most write-aholic writer I’ve ever encountered, the only one who makes me feel truly guilty for sleeping or eating or doing nothing at all when I could be using that time to write, and one whose refusal to not NOT be published by someone other than himself finally served him, as it should have.)

I read Ian’s engaging, energetic, funny, and page-turning novel Blood on the Ice (a “new adult” [vs. "young adult"] book) last year. In it, non-vampire hockey players battle vampire hockey-players (it’s cheating, really, to use vampire powers in a hockey game – as if they aren’t threatening enough off the ice), and the hero character, when not trying to figure out how to battle vampires, navigates a relationship with a woman whose sex-act preference (one you don’t often encounter in novels) and self-absorption have started to bore him.

Before reading Blood on the Ice, I enjoyed his short novel The Milkman:

When Liza, an intrepid reporter, stakes her career on an interview with a milkman named Blake, things go from weird to worse when they are abducted by aliens. After finding out the real reason aliens anally probe their abductees, the two heroes have no choice but to recruit a makeshift army of genius bikers to take the fight to the aliens and save the world!

No one writes what reviewer Jenn Zuko calls “snickering, boyish humor” better than Ian Healy, and I can only assume (having not yet read it) that Just Cause gives readers more of the same, in addition to a fascinating story and unusual–but highly likeable–characters.

I asked Ian to stop here on his blog tour so I could ask him a few questions about Just Cause (and the superhero genre, in general).

KT: Why superheroes?

IAN THOMAS HEALY: I’ve been obsessed with the powerful heroes in their brightly-colored costumes (or even the dark and grim ones–I’m looking at YOU, Midnighter) since a very early age. I didn’t really get into comic books until high school, but I remember reading Mordecai Richler’s Jacob Two-Two Meets the Hooded Fang, with the two “Child Power” superheroes of Shapiro and O’Toole (Jacob’s older brother and sister) over and over again as a child and then running around the neighborhood with a towel safety-pinned over my neck as my cape. I wanted to be a superhero. Hell, I still do. If anybody’s got an experimental serum or a radioactive beastie handy, I’m willing to talk.

The first comic book I recall owning was Captain Carrot and his Amazing Zoo Crew #12 (a DC funny-animal comic book that sent up the genre quite brilliantly). Ever since then, I collect and read anywhere from 15-20 titles a month and have been for more than twenty years. Holy crap, that’s a lot of comic books!

KT: I’m admittedly unfamiliar with (ignorant of?) a superhero novel genre. Is there a superhero novel genre, or had they all been graphic novels, primarily?

ITH: Superhero fiction straddles a fine line between fantasy and science fiction. There have been superhero fiction novels for many years, but they’ve generally been out on the fringes of the speculative fiction universe. They don’t fit easily into a bookstore’s traditional divisions, because most people think “graphic novel” when they think of superhero fiction. That’s starting to change, thanks to people like George R.R. Martin and his lengthy Wild Cards series, Michael Chabon, Austin Grossman, Rob Rogers, Van Allen Plexico, Carrie Vaughn, Jackie Kessler and Caitlin Kittredge, and (I hope) Ian Thomas Healy.

KT: What makes Just Cause different from the others?

ITH: It’s accessible to new readers compared to the staggering histories in comics. Even Wild Cards, which I believe is the longest-running superhero fiction series, has put out 21 novels since 1987. That’s kind of a daunting amount of history to explore. Just Cause is a ground-floor opportunity for readers to get to know a brand new superhero universe as it develops.

KT: What’s the Just Cause story?

ITH: Salena “Mustang Sally” Thompson is a third-generation superhero and the fastest girl in the world. She’s just graduated from the Hero Academy and hopes to earn her place on Just Cause, the premier superhero team, not only because it’s what she’s been trained for since childhood by her superpowered mother and grandmother, but because she wants a chance to hunt down and defeat the battlesuit-wearing villain Destroyer, who killed her father shortly before she was born.

And, as is often reiterated, one should be careful what one wishes for, lest it come to pass…

KT: And why did you choose the revenge story? That is, is there a particular super-hero story format that writers tend to follow, or was there something about that particular narrative that drew you?

ITH: One of the biggest problems that superhero fiction authors have to overcome is the tendency to get “power-blinded.” That is, making the story about the powers and how they match up against other powers first instead of focusing on storytelling fundamentals. I make a conscious effort when I write superhero stories to make sure they are about the characters first and foremost. Developing Mustang Sally as a three-dimensional character, with her needs, wants, dreams, and fears, was a challenge I enjoyed. Her powers are a fundamental part of her, and the story requires them for plotting purposes, but she’s not just a collection of powers in a fancy suit.

I chose Mustang Sally’s story as the starting place for the Just Cause Universe. As she’s a third-generation hero, her family has been involved in the history of the JCU in some way or another since World War II. Three generations of speedsters–her grandmother Colt, her mother Pony Girl, and now Mustang Sally–have become the focal point for the whole setting. Mustang Sally’s story leads into others both future, past, and parallel to the events of Just Cause (which will have long-reaching ramifications in future books).

KT: Is the picture on the cover how you pictured your superhero (and did you get to provide input on the cover)?

ITH: I did get to provide input on the cover, but for the most part I only provided the artist with some basic descriptions and character concepts and he did the interpretation on his own. She’s wearing red (the traditional color for speedsters in comic books), and her costume has some of the features which I outline in the book. Her boobs on the cover are impressive specimens, although in the book I describe her as very slender (like any long-distance runner would be). But I understand that sex sells, and if those luscious melons get a few more readers to buy copies of the book, I won’t complain.

KT: You wrote in your blog stop at Gae Polisner’s site that picking a favorite super power is like a chef picking a favorite meal: impossible. I’m going to make you pick one, but not for all time – just today. What would be the superpower you would want today?

ITH: There’s a minor character in my novel Deep Six, which probably won’t be released until 2013, who doesn’t require sleep at all. Consequently he’s one of the most well-read people you’ll ever meet, and he has three very understanding girlfriends. Although my wife probably wouldn’t be nearly as understanding, I like the basic idea of not having to sleep. That’s six more hours a day I could get stuff done.
_____

I’m not surprised.

Get Just Cause at Smashwords or direct from New Babel Books.

QUANTUM PHYSICS AND THE ART OF OVERCOMING DESPAIR

by Craig Lancaster

After I finished my second novel, THE SUMMER SON, and delivered it to the publisher, I did what I usually do at the conclusion of a big writing project: I took a deep breath, and I kept writing.

The difference, this time, is that I didn’t embark on one of the myriad ideas I had for another novel. I found myself drawn to short stories, something I’d pursued only haltingly before. I wrote stories about lost and lonely men and women, people pushed to the margins of society and their own lives: among them a traveling salesman consigned to a late-night bus ride; a teenage girl running from abuse in her hometown and falling into the indifference of a larger city; a newspaperman in a crisis of career and confidence; a basketball coach who, to borrow the words of the great Neil Finn, lost his regard for the good things that he had.

For nearly a year, the stories poured out. They weren’t consciously linked in time or in theme, but they were bound by one thing that I found impossible to escape: my own state of mind. My marriage was unraveling. I had learned, after a lifetime of veering between troughs of depression and soaring heights of manic energy, that I have a form of bipolar disorder. (I’ve also learned about the liberation that comes with finding a way to raise the floor and lower the ceiling, emotionally speaking.) My means of coping with the turmoil in my life was to sit at my writing desk and find a path through my own thoughts, exorcising my fears and my insecurities.

The result is QUANTUM PHYSICS AND THE ART OF DEPARTURE, a collection of ten short stories with perhaps the most inscrutable title I’ll ever choose. (My promise to you: There are no actual quantum physics involved, and the meaning of the title will become clear enough when you read the book.) Some of the stories appeared elsewhere first: “Cruelty to Animals,” a tale of badly mismatched lovers, was in the Spring 2011 issue of Montana Quarterly. Three of them—“This Is Butte. You Have Ten Minutes,” “Alyssa Alights” and “Star of the North”—were originally bundled into e-book form. And the last and most hopeful story, “Comfort and Joy,” was written last December and sold for a dollar, the net proceeds of which I donated to Feed America.

While all of this was happening, I was also getting my publishing company, Missouri Breaks Press, off the ground. The first book I did, Carol Buchanan’s GOLD UNDER ICE, was a Spur Award finalist. In July 2011, I collaborated with my colleague Ed Kemmick to bring out THE BIG SKY, BY AND BY, a collection of Ed’s essays and stories about Montana people and places. The success of those books helped give me the confidence to bring out QUANTUM PHYSICS under my own banner—not so much because I’m an ardent self-publisher but because my autodidactic tendencies compel me to explore this business from every possible angle. A collection of short stories, which most publishers shy away from on marketing grounds, seemed like the right project to take on. I hired the best editor I know, Jim Thomsen, and he helped me deliver a book that I’m intensely proud of.

I hope you’ll give it a look. It’s available in trade paperback ($14) and e-book versions for a damned sporting price ($1.99). Links are below:

Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Quantum-Physics-Art-Departure-ebook/dp/B005H9BH2E/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2

Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/quantum-physics-and-the-art-of-departure-craig-lancaster/1104594403?ean=2940013109551

1. After being encouraged in the comments section of one of her earlier self-publishing related articles to give DIY try, Lepucki decides to learn more about how effective it’s been for writers. She asks a couple of friends, Victor and Smolin, about their experience with it. Victor:

When I asked him about readers’ response, he said, “People have been very receptive and complimentary. Of course, most all of the books have been bought by people I know. What else would I expect them to say?”

Smolin:

When I asked how readers had responded, he said he hasn’t received any feedback. “But, then again,” he added, “I didn’t publish them for feedback.”

The first example is troublesome because, when used in an article published in a venue like The Millions, it perpetuates the stigma that has long surrounded self-publishing: “The only people who’ll read your books are friends and family. But, hey – so cute!”

The second simply supports the first. Implication: no one is reading you if you self-publish. (Not anyone who matters, anyway.)

Lepucki does go on to say, “Unlike many other self-published authors, they haven’t been tirelessly (some might even say obnoxiously) promoting their work,” which would explain why no one is reading it – they haven’t heard about it. However, as accurate as “some might say obnoxiously” is (everyone who tirelessly promotes themselves can be called obnoxious, from Jennifer Lopez to Justin Bieber), it’s hardly necessary to include, here, as – again, in an article such as this in a publication such as this -  it serves only to label self-published authors as pesky flies swimming around in the Celebrity Chef-prepared soup served to the Traditionally Published Authors.

One might point out to Lepucki that her articles are a fairly obvious form of self-promotion that will ideally give her new novel a better chance at traditional publication. There’s nothing wrong with it – I’m all for self-promotion, and I agree, it’s obnoxious, but calling it obnoxious in an article that ultimately comes out against self-publishing is simply in poor taste.

It also seems important to point out that most authors published by traditional houses are also responsible for a lot of self-promotion (I know I’m not the only one receiving newsletters from bestselling authors about their upcoming appearances, new releases, and 50%-off sales.)

2. Lepucki says of her two friends quoted above, “It’s an intriguing contradiction: the desire to publish a book without an expectation for readers.”

It’s actually not very intriguing, and there’s not really a contradiction. To not publish your book because a publisher hasn’t taken it on is to have no expectation for readers. It’s certain: if you leave publishing to the publishers who are saying “no” to you, you will never have a reader. Ever. Your year or more of hard work will sit in a drawer because someone else hasn’t patted you on the head and said, “It’s okay for you to release this, now.”

If you determine through whatever channels you use that your book is good and is ready for readers and that waiting for a publisher to stamp “good enough for us!” on it is a tragic waste of time (life’s really too short for that), and if you publish it yourself because you want readers to read it, you have an expectation for readers.

And if you self-publish, you actually have a shot at reaching them.

3. Well, maybe. Lepucki writes,

And yet, both Victor and Smolin maintain a hope for readership. In this regard, self-publishing provides the manuscript with a liminal existence — it’s technically available to the world, even if hardly anyone in the world is aware of it.

And they should maintain a hope for readership, unless they expect their work to do its own promotion. If they do that, yeah – they’ll probably stay lost (thanks to Lepucki, though, their Amazon rankings probably saw a bump over the last couple of days, and from what she writes about their work, it’s probably warranted).

If Victor and Smolin aren’t making any efforts to promote their books, it isn’t self-publishing that’s failing them – they’re failing themselves. If you want someone to be aware of your work, you have to present it, and this is true no matter who you are or what you do. You can’t create a masterpiece and set it in the middle of your living room and expect people to somehow smell it from the sidewalk, knock on your door, and ask to come in and see it.

4. But, if you create it and you show it to the public yourself, are you “cool”? Lepucki says no :

Okay, I’m just going to go ahead and say it: At this point in time, self-publishing lacks the cool factor. It’s… dorky. Go ahead, call me a snob (check), call me the mean girl (check). You can also call me someone who loves a well-made, beautifully designed book that makes me shiver with desire. To me, a good-looking book implies an understanding of the marketplace and how to maneuver within it…

I don’t know if it’s because I’m in my late 30s that I find nothing at all appealing about snobs, mean girls, or those who would readily admit to being either, but if it’s a snobby mean girl who is proclaiming herself to be the decider of what’s “cool,” I feel pretty okay about being “dorky” as a self-published author.

Nasty reply out of the way… I agree that a good-looking book is more appealing. There’s no two ways about it: if it looks professional, you trust the content. If it looks like someone made the cover in an hour on their computer (guilty! my first cover for Homefront was terrible), chances are, you’ll think the writing is just as sloppy/amateur. A nice cover does imply an understanding of the marketplace – on the publisher’s part, that is, not the author’s. The problem is that self-published authors are, by definition, the publishers, so when they mess up the cover, they risk ruining their book’s chances.

Fortunately, the rise in self-publishing interest has meant a boom in designers ready to help authors create beautifully designed covers. (Of course, this is often not an option for those without $800-$3,000 ready to spend on design, so as in most areas, the less money you have, the greater the disadvantage.)

5. Lepucki continues with the idea of self-publishing and its coolness factor:

Two of my peers — Los Angeles-based writer Matthew Allard, and my former classmate at Iowa, Jason Lewis — have both published their own fiction, and made it seem hip to do so.

Basically, they did some savvy marketing. One created a limited edition, the other created a musical accompaniment to his book. I admire the —– out of people who “get” marketing, who have these scathingly brilliant ideas that make people go “Oooh! Must have! Must have!” It’s a special skill, and not one all writers have, unfortunately. That’s probably the biggest reason writers want publishers, who have a team of marketers. All we have is, well, ourselves.

And if we’re not cool enough, I guess we have to do our best using traditional, less inspired means (radio, local TV, blog tours, publications willing to look at self-published work that’s been vetted, etc.) and hope the writing itself helps eventually.

6. Lepucki goes on to assume self-published authors all secretly want to be “accepted”:

Even writers who self-publish well, who successfully produce books that don’t fit into the publishing industry’s rubric of what’s marketable, let alone categorizable, still want entrance into the established world they initially turned away from. If only for assistance with production. If only to say, “My book’s for sale on the front table at Barnes and Noble.”

Even in 2011 that value can’t be denied.

This is true. Publishers get you in more stores than you can get yourself into. Publishers’ logos get you taken seriously by big reviewers. That is a true value. However, if and when bookstores and reviewers (“Helloooo, New York Times!”) come around to considering vetted self-published work, publishers will instantly become less desirable. Yeah, we’re users.

7. Here, Lepucki seems to make the assumption that self-published authors are trying to circumvent rejection:

With my first novel, I suffered rejection from editors. The writer who self-publishes sidesteps that rejection, only to face possible rejection in the form of readers’ silence.

Many actually try the traditional route, first.

Many also have impressive backgrounds in writing, understand the revision process, seek out reader feedback before calling the manuscript “finished” so they can make revisions based on editorial suggestions made by trusted colleagues, and have – most of all – confidence in their ability.

Many writer friends have received very positive feedback from agents who have said, “I love this, really, but publishers these days…”

Surely there are those who self-publish without ever experiencing a single rejection (or getting reader feedback or making revisions or caring much at all about the work), but many don’t do it to escape rejection; they do it because waiting years for the “right” approval doesn’t make sense, anymore.

8. Lepucki concludes with the following:

Even so, I’m not running to the press with my first book. In a second essay, I’ll further explore why not. I’ll also examine what self-publishing means for readers, and what traditionally published authors think of all these D.I.Y. developments.

I sincerely hope Lepucki finds more than two readers to quote in her upcoming installment, because I too would love to know what readers think about self-publishing. I’ve seen both – readers who automatically assume all self-published work is terrible because they read two really bad self-published books in a row (and probably didn’t do much looking into the author beforehand, so they’re somewhat to blame – buyer beware), and readers who love the indie authors and passionately support them. I hope Lepucki’s piece reflects the spectrum of viewpoints.

I’m also interested to read what traditionally published authors will say, and whether she’ll ask those who were successfully traditionally published, but who ended up turning to self-publishing (can I nominate Dean Wesley Smith and James Moore?).  They would probably be the most interesting, and valid, perspectives to have (“What did you think about self-publishing then versus what you think now?”).

Related post:

Kill the First Novel? Are You Insane? A Response to Edan Lepucki

Previous post:

The Cost of Kindle Books: Pay up or Shut Up

I only buy books that are $3.99 or less. If the publishers and/or Amazon want to be greedy, that is their choice,but I will not pay.

J., I understand your position. $3.99 can seem like a lot of cash for a book. But, if I may…

COST PER WORD: BOOK VS. SONG

Consider the song “Sail” by Awol Nation, for example.

At $.99 for this 131-word song on Amazon.com, you’re paying approximately $.007 per word.

However:

25 of those words are “sail.”

14 of them are this: “La la la la la la oh!”

5 words, “Sail with me into the dark,” are sung three times, so they account for 15.

Which leaves 74 original words at $.012/word. (I happily paid the $.012/word for “Sail.”)

Now, consider John Grisham’s Kindle version of The Client, well above your acceptable price range at $7.99.

The Client is 496 pages.

Cost: $.0161 per page (which is just a bit over the price per word for the song “Sail”).

Average word count per page: 250

Cost of The Client per word: $.00006

(Note: Even if some of the words in The Client are repeated, for a book’s repetition to match the repetition of a song, whole paragraphs or chapters would have to repeat, so we won’t count the “and” and “the” and “a” words as “repeats.”)

And, so:

131-word song – $.012/word ($.99 for half a page)

124,000 (approx.)-word book – $.00006/word ($.0161 for a full page)

That was just for some perspective.

~ ~ ~

The fortunate writer can plop an endless stream of words onto several pages in a single day, but what are the chances any of those words will be there tomorrow? Roughly 25%, or whatever. By the time you read a completed novel, the words on the page probably took the author, in terms of total time (not counting the days between allowed for thinking and musing and obsessing), four hours per page. (This is actually difficult to average, and I believe I’m being very,very conservative.) Those hours do include the initial writing, and then the editing, revising, deleting and rewriting, and finessing.

If the average Kindle book is between 20,000 and 100,000 words, at approximately 250 words per “page,” the author is being paid, when you buy either book at your price cap of $3.99, between $.0124/hour and $.0024/hour for their work.

(It’s actually less than that, because the authors don’t receive 100% of the proceeds. Amazon takes a cut, and the book’s publisher takes a cut.)

~ ~ ~

I read things by people like J., and I want to say, I want to say, “J.? What do you do for a living? What do you do after you leave the house in the morning and in the hours before you go home for dinner? Is it something you went to school for? Is it something that requires a particular set of skills? Is it something you do better than someone else? Is it a service that involves someone on a receiving end who pays for what you give them?”

I want to say, “If I were to knock on your door, J., and if I were to say, ‘Hi, J. I found this thing you do when I was clicking my mouse over links on the internet, and I think I’d like your service. It looks like you work really hard at it. Yeah, no, I can tell I’d really like it. People have been saying great things about it, so I’d like to try it, too, like to spend the next few hours with it, just enjoying it. Oh, you do work hard at it? Really, really hard? Yeah, no, I can see that. That’s why I want it,’ what would you say?”

“The thing is, J.,” I’d say, “You’re charging too much. See, I found it on the internet, and you know how much of this stuff I can get for free on the internet? A lot of it, J. I can go on there right now and find ten, fifteen hundred of those things for free. Like yours? No, not like yours, but, they’ll basically be the same. I just want yours because I can tell it’s better, but because I can get other stuff like it for free, I was thinking maybe yours should–I mean, no, yeah, I’ll pay for it, but see, the thing is, I don’t want to pay more than four dollars.

“It took you how long to make that? A year? Well, you know, like I said, the free ones are available and I could get one of them, but I really, like I said, I want yours, and you should feel privileged that I’m choosing you. But, so, here’s four dollars, and that’s all I’m paying, because I just don’t think I should have to pay more for it than I want to.”

What if that thing is a hand-crafted bench, J.? A sculpture, a painting, a CD, an article of clothing that took someone six months to a year to create? “Would four bucks cover it, J.?” I want to say.

~ ~ ~

You can buy a used paperback book for $.50 online, they argue in the thread. So why should anyone pay more than $3.99 for an e-book?

That’s a good question.

Answer: Those low-priced paperbacks have been available on Amazon for a long time. They made Amazon. You knew those cheap books were there when you spent $79 – $199 on a Kindle so you could have the convenience (and the coolness!) of ebooks.

Maybe…maybe you thought you were already spending enough on the e-reader – that it should somehow entitle you to receive free-to-cheap e-books.

Ha haha! No way. That’d be like if I thought, “WHY do tires cost $100 each? Agh, and they charge for labor? But I already spent the money on the CAR!”

Wait.

Oh…oh, no. That WAS what you thought when you bought your Kindle, wasn’t it?

Well, get over it, ya whiny little bitches.

______

Next post: Self-Publishing “Lacks the Cool Factor”? But, Hasn’t Independence Always Been Cool?

Related post: The Looming Extinction of Everyday Art and History

NaNo-ing? Watch Inside the Writers’ Studio’s “Writing, Time Management, and You”

Filed under: publishing, Social commentary, Writing ]]> http://kristenjtsetsi.com/2011/10/28/the-cost-of-kindle-books-pay-up-or-shut-up/feed/ 69 Kris Kindle writer writing http://kristenjtsetsi.com/2011/10/12/rj-keller-talks-second-novel-blues-and-pie/ http://kristenjtsetsi.com/2011/10/12/rj-keller-talks-second-novel-blues-and-pie/#comments Wed, 12 Oct 2011 19:27:07 +0000 kristentsetsi http://kristentsetsi.wordpress.com/?p=1855 Read more]]> I had so much fun interviewing RJ Keller about The Wendy House (working title) before that I thought I’d do it again. (Admittedly, I might have been finding a passive-aggressive way to say, “Hurry up and finish so I can read it!”)

Q: Let’s just dive right in, shall we? I, like many, have been waiting impatiently for you to finish The Wendy House. I know writers don’t like, need, or want pressure, but–well, strike that. What writer could possibly complain about readers being impatient for their next novel?

RJ KELLER: It’s a great problem to have. I can’t complain. In fact, I’m getting impatient for it to be be finished, myself.

Q: The Wendy House is a working title. Have you considered alternate titles (and if so, can you share one of them)?

RJK: I haven’t, actually. It strange, because Waiting For Spring didn’t have a title until I was getting ready to query agents, and then it was a difficult job coming up with one. I’ve been calling this book The Wendy House pretty much since day one, and it’s only been recently that I’ve been second guessing myself on it. Time will tell.

Q: Is it true what they say about writing the second novel? Has it been harder than writing the first?

RJK: I’ve found it to be very difficult, to be honest. When I began writing Waiting For Spring, I was doing it for myself. I was doing it for fun. And even when it got to the point where I knew I wanted to do something with the manuscript, the only expectations were those I put on myself. I started The Wendy House knowing that I was writing it for public consumption. At times that knowledge has been very overwhelming, to the point where I began to second guess the story, the characters, and myself. I’ve spent the last couple of months trying to block out any outside expectations and focusing instead on how much I love writing, which has helped a great deal.

Q: BookBaby recently broached the topic of writer creativity – that is, what happens when writers feel like they’ve lost it. I understand NyQuil was a great aid to you while writing Waiting for Spring.

RJK: I actually tried NyQuil again, to see if it would help. It just put me to sleep. I think I’m getting old.

But yes, the past couple of years has been full of those moments. When I was writing Waiting For Spring, the words flowed easily. With The Wendy House it’s been more of a struggle. There’s a lot of rumination about death in this novel, which wasn’t a problem for me when I first started writing it. A short way through the first draft, though, my father died. Shortly after that I lost a close friend, discovered that my grandmother had terminal lung cancer (she passed away recently), and then a cousin to whom I was very close died unexpectedly. Obviously it was a rough time, and I was feeling a bit raw emotionally.

[Intro]
Oh, my, word. Keller, look at that book.
It is so old. *swoon* It looks like,
One of those marked-in prof-books.
And, you know, only they know why they underline. *swoon*
They do it with permanent pens, you know.
It doesn’t erase. We’re always told “Don’t write in books!”
But they do it. It’s because they love them.
The pages, the paper, the softness, it’s like,
Tissue, I mean—the best. Look!
It’s just so … worn!

[The Rest]
I like used books and I cannot lie
You e-book readers can’t deny
When a book comes in with the corners folded back
And the text a faded black
You’re in love, wanna read all that stuff
Even if the words are really tough
Chosen from the dictionary
All the syllables make you wary
(Oh Kindle, I wanna quick highlight
Can this word be right?
My Kindle friends tried to warn me
But the steamy scenes make me so horny
Not fold down the page?)
I got a new “Itty-Bitty” book light
“Well, use it. Use it,
Cause you got it from Uncle Whozit.”
It’s in my top drawer
To hell with the screen glow
It’s gray, fake
Makin’ all of my fingertips bake
I’m tired of magazines
Sayin’ e-books are the thing
Take the average bookworm and ask her that
They need a front and back
So, readers! (Yeah!) Readers! (Yeah!)
Does your used book have the spine? (Hell yeah!)
Get up and bend it! (Bend it!) Crease it! (Crease it!)
Crease that wrinkled spine!
Baby got books!

The first few weeks following September 11 was the only time I felt there was a true sense of unity in this country. I was only 27 at the time, going to graduate school and working, and I admittedly had never given much though to “country,” or what it meant to be a citizen of one. There was no need to think about such things if it wasn’t election season, when my role as a citizen would help determine, albeit by a miniscule fraction, who would end up leading that country.

I’d returned to the U.S. eight years earlier after having lived in Germany since the age of seven. Wherever you spend your childhood and formative years is “home,” and it continues to feel like home for some time after you leave. If it takes time for a new house to feel like “home,” imagine how long it can take for a new country to feel that way.

After eight years of living in the Midwest following my return from Germany, I was finally comfortably settled in my new home country. It no longer felt like the foreign land I would visit some summers when I’d fly from Frankfurt to Minneapolis to visit my mother. The place with the wide streets and big cars. The scary place where you’d have to be crazy to walk alone at night. The place with the big shopping malls,Taco Bell, the many flavors of bubble gum (and other delicious candies, like NERDS), and the Love Connection.

Once it felt like home, I took it for granted the way people do. I didn’t think about America. Why would I? Why would anyone give it much thought? People think about what they’re wearing that day, what might happen at school or at work, whether it’s going to rain, and what to have for dinner.

Ever since September 11, though, I’ve thought about America frequently. Not all the time, and not even most days. But frequently.

Immediately following September 11, American flag decals appeared affixed to residential windows facing the street. Politicians were wearing tiny American flags on their lapels. The flags weren’t, as I saw it, a patriotic battle cry, but a show of solidarity.

For all of my ignorance of what it meant to be a country, even I had the feeling that the American people were spiritually huddled together in a group hug. There seemed to be a meaningful awareness of the delicacy of life, the value of human connections, and what it was that, in the end, truly mattered.

And then, as if by magic, all of that beauty and unity was turned on its head and we became the venomous, frothing, spitting idiots we are today, screaming about “red” and “blue” states, “leftists” and “rightists,” and “liberals” and “conservatives.”

Anyone who’s been merely conscious during last several years is aware of the vitriol that has dominated not only the televised political climate, but also the political climate between neighbors, among bloggers, and in online chat rooms.

This began not long after 9/11, when Americans were told by some politicians and some talking heads on TV that there was only one way to feel about the war in Afghanistan, and later the war in Iraq. If we were unsure, we weren’t supporting the troops. We were un-American. We were traitors.

This was the first time I’d ever felt like America, as a result of the terrorist attacks, was consciously contributing to squashing one of its own freedoms, in effect doing exactly what we’d been told not to do: letting the terrorists “win.”

We continue to feed the monster that is this country’s shameful and childish disunity every time we categorize, name-call, finger-point, and use divisive language.

The question being asked today is one I’d truly love to know the answer to:

What have we learned?

But that obviously doesn’t stop quality self-published work from entering the marketplace, and from quality authors. In fact, more and more established authors (for example, NYT bestselling author James C. Moore, who self-published his Sci-Fi/Mystery novel In the Time of Man using Kindle’s DTP service) seem to be joining the masses of lesser-known authors who couldn’t find a home with a publisher because their work either didn’t fit into a genre mold or would be difficult to market.

David Raterman, who has written books for National Geographic and Knopf/Random House (and who also worked two years for CARE in ex-Soviet Tajikistan), is yet another writer who decided to self-publish after trying to do it the old fashioned way. He recently released his debut thriller novel, The River Panj, in an e-version for Kindle, Nook, Smashwords, and the Sony e-reader, and as a trade paperback through CreateSpace.

Here are excerpts from a couple of rejections he received from editors before finally deciding to release it himself (he shares these rejections on his website):

The vividness of Raterman’s descriptions are stunning and I can certainly see what it is that has you so enthusiastic about his work. However, I am concerned that the book’s subject—while timely—has fiction readers a bit weary and unless it is covered by an established name in the marketplace, will have a hard time breaking out commercially.

It’s an exciting, adrenaline-fueled read, and interest in and awareness of the area of the world at the heart of this story have never been higher. But, ultimately, as intriguing as Central Asia is, I think it makes for a tough setting.

I’m always up for a page-turner, and not only can David deliver the fun, but his writing possesses a certain level of political sophistication that’s rare in these types of novels. As promising as it is, though, I am going to pass. For me it’s really a question of positioning—while it has its strengths, I’m just not convinced it will break out beyond its core audience. Alas, something we need for our select number of fiction titles here.

I learned about David Raterman when I received an email newsletter announcing the release of The River Panj. I thought, “Who is this man and how did he get my email address?” So I visited his website.

The first author who surprised me by self-publishing was James C. Moore. One would think an Emmy Award-winning former news correspondent and co-author of a book like Bush’s Brain would have no problem selling his exceptional fiction. I figured it was a fluke. Bad luck. Bad timing.

But then I visited David Raterman’s website and saw that it was clearly happening again, to yet another writer one would assume would have no problem selling his work to a publisher. There were three things I wanted to know about: David Raterman, The River Panj, and why on earth he would have to self-publish it. So, I emailed a reply to his newsletter and asked if he would be willing to be interviewed.

He said yes. By the time I sent him my first set of questions via email, I’d received a second newsletter, which read, in part,

As we reach the 10th anniversary of 9/11 and football season kicks in, I’d like to share news about my book. “The River Panj” is the first thriller to open in Afghanistan on Sept. 11, 2001, and it shows a completely new image of Americans. On sale since Aug. 3, it’s already listed as #11 at Amazon for “Afghanistan.”

Our interview follows.

KT: Marketing something around 9/11 is difficult. There’s a thin line to tread: the date is relevant to the work, but using that day, one that means so many things to so many people, could make them think you’re using a tragedy to sell a book. How do you reconcile the two sides of the line?

DAVID RATERMAN: I’m extremely sensitive about using 9/11 as the backdrop of my story but to not exploit it. In fact, my story has no scenes at the World Trade Center or Pentagon or on Flight 93. But fiction writers are told to “write what you know.” And I knew that part of the world. I worked for almost a year at a prosthetics workshop in ex-Soviet Armenia. Our staff fabricated artificial limbs for soldiers and war victims. After that, I worked two years for CARE in ex-Soviet Tajikistan, which was struggling out of a civil war that was similar to Afghanistan’s (i.e., Muslim fundamentalists fighting to take over). In fact, thousands of our food recipients were Afghan refugees. And I was on the border twice during Taliban-Northern Alliance battles that were clearly audible (but we didn’t see them).

Warfare is part of humanity, as is storytelling. There were a handful of Americans in Afghanistan on 9/11 and I felt it would make for a fascinating literary subject.

We’ve already had many books, TV shows and films connected to Pearl Harbor and other tragic events in America. And there have been many books, TV shows and films featuring 9/11 in one way or another, so mine is not groundbreaking from that standpoint. I started writing this novel a few years ago and it’s purely coincidental that I’m doing any marketing at all right now—I published the ebook last month and the print book this week. Only recently did the designer create my book cover and a line editor checked the manuscript for grammar.

KT: How much of a challenge was it to try to encompass the complex reality of the reactions and behaviors of Afghans on 9/11 after they’d heard about what happened?

DR: Most of the Afghans in my story are very isolated, almost illiterate, terrorists so they gloat about the attacks on America. But people shouldn’t think I’ve stereotyped Muslims because I do have very intelligent and compassionate Tajiks, including my American protagonist’s fiancée who is a doctor right out of medical school. But, since I’m writing in the thriller genre, I need good bad guys and I wasn’t going to sugarcoat the terrorists’ reactions to the attacks. I also have innocent Afghans caught up in the madness of their country’s eternal warfare. Their plight is truly sad. Part of me wants to let all of the idiots fight themselves into extinction, but they need to leave the innocent people alone.

KT: Why did you choose Sept. 11 as the story’s start point?

DR: From 1997 to 1999 I worked in Tajikistan for CARE, which is based in Atlanta. And my boss became deputy country director of the UN’s World Food Programme in Afghanistan, working in Kabul from 1999 to Sept. 13, 2001 (when he got on the first flight he could). Because we didn’t have a US Embassy in Afghanistan, there were very Americans working there—maybe 100 working for aid agencies.

Writing my first novel, which I had long wanted to do, I was looking for an opening that tied together my personal knowledge—Tajiks are the main ethnic group in both Tajikistan and Afghanistan’s Northern Alliance—with a subject that would be completely unique and relevant to American readers. So it opens with emergency relief on 9/11 in Afghanistan.

KT: On your website, you write, “I wanted to go farther,” when comparing your approach to that of other authors who had written about relief workers. What do you mean, “go farther”?

DR: “Emergency relief” conjures up danger and compassion, which are powerful ingredients for a thriller. But it had been only superficially covered. The catalyst for the plot in Brad Thor’s bestseller “The Apostle” (2009) is an American physician being kidnapped in Afghanistan while working for CARE. Then Thor’s hero goes in search-and-rescue-mode. That’s great—awesome actually, because I loved the book. But the physician’s work activities are only superficially shown, and for only a few pages. I felt many readers would like to know more about characters like this, and I was the one to provide those details. In my experience, about 1/3 of the Americans working in relief are ex-military, 1/3 have a religious calling, and 1/3 want to see the world while having adventures. Of course there’s overlap. It’s a fascinating mix of people.

KT: Is it the work itself or the deeper reasons people choose the work and how it contributes to their (fictional) characters that was more compelling for you to communicate?

DR: I’m really pleased to shed light on the emergency relief/humanitarian aid industry. But also compelling to me are the characters. My protagonist Derek is an ex-Notre Dame football player who thought he’d play in the NFL, “but then he lost it all.” Readers find out what happened. I enjoyed putting his character together.

Another American character is a born-again Christian (from Colorado) who is doing volunteer work in his golden years “to make up for all the bad he did.” And another is an old draft-dodging hippie (from Connecticut) who embarked on a life of foreign relief work. Derek’s best friend works for Doctors Without Borders. After university, he served in the British Army as second lieutenant.

KT: I found this line from review on your website particularly … chilling: “David Raterman knows his stuff, because he’s walked the dusty roads of Central Asia and he’s looked al-Qaida mujahedeen in the eyes and lived to tell about it.” Can you tell me a little bit about that?

DR: It was serious in Tajikistan from 1997, when the peace accords were signed, until 1999 when I left. Several of my friends were kidnapped and/or killed, including a UN bodyguard (an ex-New York cop) being shot in the head, a young French woman with an aid agency being blown up by a hand grenade, and four unarmed UN military observers being executed on the side of a road. Also a few of my Tajik and Russian colleagues were kidnapped and beaten by criminals or authorities, including our handyman Ayub. His son had gone AWOL from the Tajik army for the third time because his officers beat him so much. So the son’s officers tracked down Ayub and beat him, after kidnapping Ayub’s wife. They said they would kill Ayub if his son didn’t show up in three days. On the third day, I was driven to talk with those officers. Scary stuff.

Probably the scariest incident was when my Russian girlfriend (now wife) flew into Tajikistan’s capital to visit me from Moscow. A three-day battle was taking place with government troops firing tank and artillery rounds from the airport tarmac to a hill where Islamic militants fired back. I didn’t think Aeroflot would land the plane, but sure enough they did. When she got off the plane she asked what the noise was and I shouted in Russian, “Get in the car! It’s artillery!” Driving off the tarmac, she asked if she could take photos of wounded soldiers walking away from the battle, five feet from our car. “Don’t even make eye contact,” I said. Still can’t believe Aeroflot let that plane arrive. I guess they needed the revenue.

KT: What was it like to talk with the officers about Ayub? That is, where did you meet with them and what were your surroundings like, how did they behave toward you, and what was it like to be in their presence?

DR: It was extremely tense. Driving to the meeting at Ayub’s rundown concrete apartment complex, we had no idea how drunk they might be, even during the day, or whacked out on something like heroin.

They did not want to deal with an American because they look up to us culturally and financially since we had so much aid in their country, and because they knew they were in the wrong with Ayub’s son. But they refused to budge, unless receiving $300 in US bills. We returned to CARE’s office where our administrators advanced Ayub his next two months of salary, which totaled $300. Ayub paid the officers and days later all was good. A father’s love …

KT: In The River Panj, the protagonist’s girlfriend and colleague are kidnapped, and the protagonist is later kidnapped, himself. Will readers get a sense of what the kidnapping experience is like beyond what we’ve seen on TV or heard about in the news? If so, how did you create that realism?

DR: Yes, my details are very raw, very real. I myself was beaten for 45 minutes by drunk military policemen in an ex-Soviet republic (Armenia) so I know what fear is—I thought I would die. I remember looking at the two MPs eyes each time they hit me. That was a powerful image I’ve kept.

And one time in the Moscow airport, I was locked up for 24 hours for not having proper documents, which was a lie by the customs officials. I wasn’t too worried for my life, because I had access to a phone and called the US Consulate, but it still was intense and the whole time I wasn’t sure if they’d come in and hit me or do whatever.

Looking into the faces of people as they do evil to you is good fortune for developing writers..

And, as mentioned, I knew a few people in Tajikistan who were kidnapped so I spoke with them.

KT: It sounds like you’ve had a number of real-life dramatic experiences in your life, so why not write a memoir? Why fiction?

DR: I have a collection of travel stories that one day I may see about publishing. As it is, several were published independently. The reality is that, unless you are already famous, it’s hard to sell your memoirs. Plus I personally wouldn’t write memoirs because I’m not one for pontificating. Why fiction? Because it’s fun to ask, “What if…?”

KT: The reviews of your novel are good, and you’re an established writer, so how is it that The River Panj is self-published? How is it that you weren’t able to place it with a publisher?

DR: I went the agent route, and after getting about a dozen rejections he dropped me. That was frustrating, especially since I’d heard that so many novelists get scores of rejections before getting published. But he’s a huge agent, maybe too big for me at this point in my career.

Editors at publishing houses want to know that your book will sell. That’s why Snooki and Pamela Anderson have published novels but some strong literary and genre novels have not been published. It’s the chicken-or-the-egg. How can a novelist get book-buying fans without getting published, but how does the novelist get published without fans? (Hint: star in a reality TV show first!)

A few rejections did mention that Americans have reader fatigue when it comes to 9/11, and I do get that. But the vast majority of 9/11 books are nonfiction, and fiction is a completely different animal. It enables the author, and reader, to imagine scenarios instead of dwelling on what already happened. Regardless, mine does not have one scene in New York, Washington, DC or Flight 93. Mine’s set in Afghanistan and neighboring Tajikistan, with a secondary storyline in South Florida and Chicago.

Although I self-published, the novel is on par with what would have been released by a traditional publisher. The big differences are that instead of their designers creating my book cover and their editor(s) editing my book, I had to hire people. Fortunately I found a great designer and great editor named Ian Harper. A well-renowned freelance editor, Ian cleans up manuscripts before authors give them to their editors, whether the author is new or on his or her 15th book.

KT: How do you think your self-publishing experience might have been different if you hadn’t been able to hire an exceptional cover designer and well known freelance editor? Would you still have done it, or would you have tried to find another agent?

DR: I’m very well networked among writers, editors and designers so it was easy to find ones. Yes, I would have self-published even if I had to draw stick figures on the cover. “An emergency relief thriller” represents such a powerful theme, plus I had invested so much time into it, that I would have been derelict to not give it some sunlight.

KT: The River Panj is the first in a series. Are you already working on the next, and if so, what is it about?

DR: Yes, and top secret!

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Buy The River Panj

Paperback ($10.99): www.createspace.com/3667626

Ebook ($2.99): http://www.amazon.com/The-River-Panj-ebook/dp/B005FFO394/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1312386650&sr=1-3

Also available at iTunes ($2.99) for iPads and iPhones.

For more info … www.DavidRaterman.com