Thursday July 15th, 1p to 5p at Hastings in Lake Jackson, Texas – West Hwy 332.
It seemed appropriate I lead with the important part of this post. I’ll have a booking signing for my latest novel “Paradise Flawed” and will also have copies of “Six Years’ Worth” available for sale, too. Beyond that, I want to invite and urge anyone within driving distance to drop by and say hello. I love meeting people. Would you do that?
Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright
Author of
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/2009
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/2007
"The Last Radiant Heart"/Virtual Tales/Summer 2010
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/ ebook available now 2010
Novelist
Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright, Author
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Job Interview
I certainly can’t set myself apart from the rest of our nation when it comes to economic woes. It seems major changes loom on the horizon for me. I wish I had the power to glimpse what they might be.
I need to back up a bit and explain that, I suppose.
Eight years ago I was a happy well-adjusted (by my definition) advertising sales manager for the local CBS television affiliate. And then the unthinkable happened. Top management changed and I was out. I won’t bore you with details, but it’s so common these days that I probably don’t need to.
Companies of all sizes have no loyalties to employees anymore; people seen only as pawns to be moved, shifted or booted, sometimes after decades of loyal service. That’s breeding employees that are either apathetic or willing to sell-out employers to competitors for the price of a song. But, I’m rabbit-trailing. This should belong in a blog unto itself.
Back on point; after I’d lost that job, I wanted to hone writing skills and write novels. So, I did and I am, but the souring economy has unceremoniously forced a decision. I must go back to work full-time if I want to support this writing habit into old(er) age.
After thirty-two years in the broadcast television business, eighteen of those years in advertising sales, I now have an interview coming up to get back into it as a grunt account executive and, maybe, have the opportunity to re-invent myself yet again.
I smile, in a nervous way of course, when I think about all those fresh-faced college grads I interviewed over the years to do what I’m seeking to do now. I’ll be on their side of that desk trying my best to be chatty, witty and charming while displaying an educated interest in the job I’ll be applying for. Frankly, it’s scaring hell out of me.
I keep asking myself, “Why?” I know the job inside and out, even trained many to do what I’m applying for, yet here I sit writing a blog about my interview reluctance. Some of the fears are genuine, though, like the possibility of being seen as over qualified.
I don’t mean to whine, but I can’t get an odd image out of my head; chasing a rolling quarter into the street just to be hit by a truck.
I curse the state of our economy!
Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright
Author of
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/2009
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/2007
"The Last Radiant Heart"/Virtual Tales/August 2010
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/ ebook available now 2010
I need to back up a bit and explain that, I suppose.
Eight years ago I was a happy well-adjusted (by my definition) advertising sales manager for the local CBS television affiliate. And then the unthinkable happened. Top management changed and I was out. I won’t bore you with details, but it’s so common these days that I probably don’t need to.
Companies of all sizes have no loyalties to employees anymore; people seen only as pawns to be moved, shifted or booted, sometimes after decades of loyal service. That’s breeding employees that are either apathetic or willing to sell-out employers to competitors for the price of a song. But, I’m rabbit-trailing. This should belong in a blog unto itself.
Back on point; after I’d lost that job, I wanted to hone writing skills and write novels. So, I did and I am, but the souring economy has unceremoniously forced a decision. I must go back to work full-time if I want to support this writing habit into old(er) age.
After thirty-two years in the broadcast television business, eighteen of those years in advertising sales, I now have an interview coming up to get back into it as a grunt account executive and, maybe, have the opportunity to re-invent myself yet again.
I smile, in a nervous way of course, when I think about all those fresh-faced college grads I interviewed over the years to do what I’m seeking to do now. I’ll be on their side of that desk trying my best to be chatty, witty and charming while displaying an educated interest in the job I’ll be applying for. Frankly, it’s scaring hell out of me.
I keep asking myself, “Why?” I know the job inside and out, even trained many to do what I’m applying for, yet here I sit writing a blog about my interview reluctance. Some of the fears are genuine, though, like the possibility of being seen as over qualified.
I don’t mean to whine, but I can’t get an odd image out of my head; chasing a rolling quarter into the street just to be hit by a truck.
I curse the state of our economy!
Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright
Author of
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/2009
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/2007
"The Last Radiant Heart"/Virtual Tales/August 2010
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/ ebook available now 2010
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
New Release: "Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"
I hope everyone checks out my latest ebook release: Where Are You, Anne Bonny?
It's available now through http://www.roguephoenixpress.com/ .
If you love the idea of a lady pirate, you'll love this one.
Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright
Author of
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/2009
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/2007
"The Last Radiant Heart"/Virtual Tales/Summer 2010
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/ ebook available now 2010
It's available now through http://www.roguephoenixpress.com/ .
If you love the idea of a lady pirate, you'll love this one.
Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright
Author of
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/2009
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/2007
"The Last Radiant Heart"/Virtual Tales/Summer 2010
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/ ebook available now 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
"Trouble"
I was notified recently that a short story I wrote, “Trouble”, placed in a contest and would be included, along with all the winners, in an anthology. It’s published by Crossquarter Publishing Group of Santa Fe, New Mexico. It’s a 2500-word fantasy piece that crosses the line into religious territory.
The book will be available in late July at http://www.crossquarter.com/ and http://www.amazon.com/ .
I’m eager to read the other stories. Below is an excerpt of “Trouble”. Enjoy:
No salt had been sprinkled on the thin layer of ice in the alley like it had been on the sidewalk. Patches of it immediately robbed sure footing. Complicating matters, it was sloped to the center for better drainage; he did not have to step at all to slide to the middle of the narrow alley. Forward progress was now only possible by a flat-footed glide, arms outstretched as if tightrope walking. Chester slowed and picked his path. The iciest places were difficult to spot because the only illumination came from a single street light behind him.
Suddenly, a rat darted across his path.
His feet went airborne.
His head came down against a gas meter pipe elbow.
Pain exploded in his head and the concrete was cold on his prone body, but only for as long as it took to realize it.
He took a deep breath and sat up. He held his head with both hands and then checked them—no blood; furthermore, no pain. Opening his eyes, he danced fingertips over the side of his head in various places and felt nothing out of the ordinary. Not a gash, a lump, a sore spot—nothing.
Hey, how come I can see my hand so well? Why is it not cold anymore? What’s goin’ on?
He looked around for the source of brilliance but it simply could not be pinpointed. Light flooded the alley from all directions, not overhead and not from either side. “What the hell…?”
“Chester Wiggins?”
He continued the fingering probe of his temple. “Yeah, I’m Chester.”
Still dumbfounded, he did not care about the voice. Finally, he looked. When his eyes connected, he scooted on his butt until his back thudded against the brick wall of the building behind him. “Jesus Christ!”
“I wish.”
“Who the hell are you? You don’t look human!”
“I should hope not.”
“Then who… what are you?”
“I live here.”
“The alley?”
“It’s an alley to you. To me it’s a disgusting little crevice within a cranny under a smelly lump of dung... but I call it home.”
The book will be available in late July at http://www.crossquarter.com/ and http://www.amazon.com/ .
I’m eager to read the other stories. Below is an excerpt of “Trouble”. Enjoy:
No salt had been sprinkled on the thin layer of ice in the alley like it had been on the sidewalk. Patches of it immediately robbed sure footing. Complicating matters, it was sloped to the center for better drainage; he did not have to step at all to slide to the middle of the narrow alley. Forward progress was now only possible by a flat-footed glide, arms outstretched as if tightrope walking. Chester slowed and picked his path. The iciest places were difficult to spot because the only illumination came from a single street light behind him.
Suddenly, a rat darted across his path.
His feet went airborne.
His head came down against a gas meter pipe elbow.
Pain exploded in his head and the concrete was cold on his prone body, but only for as long as it took to realize it.
He took a deep breath and sat up. He held his head with both hands and then checked them—no blood; furthermore, no pain. Opening his eyes, he danced fingertips over the side of his head in various places and felt nothing out of the ordinary. Not a gash, a lump, a sore spot—nothing.
Hey, how come I can see my hand so well? Why is it not cold anymore? What’s goin’ on?
He looked around for the source of brilliance but it simply could not be pinpointed. Light flooded the alley from all directions, not overhead and not from either side. “What the hell…?”
“Chester Wiggins?”
He continued the fingering probe of his temple. “Yeah, I’m Chester.”
Still dumbfounded, he did not care about the voice. Finally, he looked. When his eyes connected, he scooted on his butt until his back thudded against the brick wall of the building behind him. “Jesus Christ!”
“I wish.”
“Who the hell are you? You don’t look human!”
“I should hope not.”
“Then who… what are you?”
“I live here.”
“The alley?”
“It’s an alley to you. To me it’s a disgusting little crevice within a cranny under a smelly lump of dung... but I call it home.”
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Editing My Baby
It’s interesting how the mind reacts when self-editing the newborn novel.
We stare lovingly with stars in our eyes and never see the obvious.
Before us is a helpless infant and we, as authors, have the power and the means to either relegate it to bastard stepchild status, even mutilate it, or give it sustenance and the right amount of care to help it reach its full potential as a story that propels readers to another place, another time and into another life twisting emotions to whatever end the author desires. It’s difficult in the beginning to see anything but the most beautiful baby in the world. In reality, it’s an embryo faintly resembling a novel.
As with any parent, it’s a difficult task to nurture without coddling or to discipline without harming.
This morning I sat at the keyboard going over a chapter in a novel now almost six years, by no means an infant, and still unpublished. It was one specific paragraph that spawned this line of thinking. In my opinion it was superbly written—just the right amount of narration to balance crisp dialogue without cumbersome adverbs or overuse of adjectives. It plucked a heart string the way I intended when first written in 2005.
The only problem with it, I came to realize, was that the entire paragraph, every well-placed word, was superfluous to the story. It didn’t need to be there. The story would not miss it at all. It felt as if someone had slapped me and that’s not just hyperbole; I felt a real sting. I loved that paragraph, usually reading it two or three times before moving on.
This is where the infant/parent comparison is most appropriate; when I decided that my only choice was removing it, I might as well have decided to amputate the pinky finger of an only child, a teenage child at that.
I now have a new opinion: When I’m finished with it, this eighty-four-thousand word six-year old novel may be ten to fifteen-thousand words shorter.
If, at some point in the future, the novel is blessed by some publisher, I’ll build a shadow box and next to the published novel will be placed a very well written paragraph. I’ll just let people ask me why.
Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright
Author of
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/2009
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/2007
"The Last Radiant Heart"/Virtual Tales/Summer 2010
"Anne Bonny, Where Are You?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/Summer 2010
We stare lovingly with stars in our eyes and never see the obvious.
Before us is a helpless infant and we, as authors, have the power and the means to either relegate it to bastard stepchild status, even mutilate it, or give it sustenance and the right amount of care to help it reach its full potential as a story that propels readers to another place, another time and into another life twisting emotions to whatever end the author desires. It’s difficult in the beginning to see anything but the most beautiful baby in the world. In reality, it’s an embryo faintly resembling a novel.
As with any parent, it’s a difficult task to nurture without coddling or to discipline without harming.
This morning I sat at the keyboard going over a chapter in a novel now almost six years, by no means an infant, and still unpublished. It was one specific paragraph that spawned this line of thinking. In my opinion it was superbly written—just the right amount of narration to balance crisp dialogue without cumbersome adverbs or overuse of adjectives. It plucked a heart string the way I intended when first written in 2005.
The only problem with it, I came to realize, was that the entire paragraph, every well-placed word, was superfluous to the story. It didn’t need to be there. The story would not miss it at all. It felt as if someone had slapped me and that’s not just hyperbole; I felt a real sting. I loved that paragraph, usually reading it two or three times before moving on.
This is where the infant/parent comparison is most appropriate; when I decided that my only choice was removing it, I might as well have decided to amputate the pinky finger of an only child, a teenage child at that.
I now have a new opinion: When I’m finished with it, this eighty-four-thousand word six-year old novel may be ten to fifteen-thousand words shorter.
If, at some point in the future, the novel is blessed by some publisher, I’ll build a shadow box and next to the published novel will be placed a very well written paragraph. I’ll just let people ask me why.
Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright
Author of
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/2009
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/2007
"The Last Radiant Heart"/Virtual Tales/Summer 2010
"Anne Bonny, Where Are You?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/Summer 2010
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Writer's Block
Where does writer’s block come from?
I suppose the question doesn’t have a pat answer but I think I have a handle on it in my case. It’s a matter of creativity choked off by everyday life—money worries, family problems, backed-up plumbing, and on, and on and on.
Here’s where that handle gets a might difficult to hang on to; I haven’t found the key to make creativity top of the heap. It’s just another thing in the heap.
Wine works well, but it’s certainly not a fix I care to lean on regularly. As time goes on, that cure will surely become the curse. I’ve seen and heard of it happening to many writers, musicians, and actors.
So, let’s start a meaningful discussion: When you hit a wall with your writing, what works for you?
Trust me, any technique offered will be cheerfully received.
Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright
Author of
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/2009
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/2007
"The Last Radiant Heart"/Virtual Tales/Summer 2010
"Anne Bonny, Where Are You?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/Summer 2010
I suppose the question doesn’t have a pat answer but I think I have a handle on it in my case. It’s a matter of creativity choked off by everyday life—money worries, family problems, backed-up plumbing, and on, and on and on.
Here’s where that handle gets a might difficult to hang on to; I haven’t found the key to make creativity top of the heap. It’s just another thing in the heap.
Wine works well, but it’s certainly not a fix I care to lean on regularly. As time goes on, that cure will surely become the curse. I’ve seen and heard of it happening to many writers, musicians, and actors.
So, let’s start a meaningful discussion: When you hit a wall with your writing, what works for you?
Trust me, any technique offered will be cheerfully received.
Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright
Author of
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/2009
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/2007
"The Last Radiant Heart"/Virtual Tales/Summer 2010
"Anne Bonny, Where Are You?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/Summer 2010
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Education and Common Sense
I experienced a true phenomenon yesterday—a university professor educated beyond common sense. Education and good old horse sense, I am now convinced, can be mutually exclusive.
The man is brilliant in his field and we had a fascinating conversation about the human condition. He eloquently quoted Fritz Perls and Freud, among others. I kept my chin in my palm enthralled with his expertise on what makes humans tick.
He is one of those people with degrees, diplomas and certificates of achievement framed and hanging on his office wall in numbers that left little wall space visible. He obviously had spent innumerable hours studying to have such wisdom available without referencing some dusty old text.
As his time for me dwindled, his mind clicked over to chores he had to get done when he got home, like mowing the lawn. That’s the one that got my attention.
He asked, “Since only the ends of a mower blade are sharpened, how does it cut grass in the center?”
I laughed.
He didn’t.
So, I told him that forward momentum takes care of it.
He had to think about it for a full second, maybe two and then the light in his eyes went on.
Later, while thinking about that odd transformation from enlightened guru to dim bulb within seconds, I visualized an eager young college student holding out a bag while professors, teachers, mentors and instructors filled that bag with knowledge within a very narrow range. The student kept his nose in that bag the whole time, years actually, never paying attention to the world around him. Questions came to mind.
If given the choice, would it be preferable to learn everything there is to know about a subject within a narrow range? Or, should we work at becoming better rounded in our education? Or, does it really matter? Simply asked: Is it better to know a lot about very little or to have some knowledge about many different things?
I’m sure the answer lies with where the passion is. As for me, I have a new respect for Texas rednecks.
Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright
Author of
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/2009
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/2007
"The Last Radiant Heart"/Virtual Tales/Summer 2010
"Anne Bonny, Where Are You?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/Spring 2010
The man is brilliant in his field and we had a fascinating conversation about the human condition. He eloquently quoted Fritz Perls and Freud, among others. I kept my chin in my palm enthralled with his expertise on what makes humans tick.
He is one of those people with degrees, diplomas and certificates of achievement framed and hanging on his office wall in numbers that left little wall space visible. He obviously had spent innumerable hours studying to have such wisdom available without referencing some dusty old text.
As his time for me dwindled, his mind clicked over to chores he had to get done when he got home, like mowing the lawn. That’s the one that got my attention.
He asked, “Since only the ends of a mower blade are sharpened, how does it cut grass in the center?”
I laughed.
He didn’t.
So, I told him that forward momentum takes care of it.
He had to think about it for a full second, maybe two and then the light in his eyes went on.
Later, while thinking about that odd transformation from enlightened guru to dim bulb within seconds, I visualized an eager young college student holding out a bag while professors, teachers, mentors and instructors filled that bag with knowledge within a very narrow range. The student kept his nose in that bag the whole time, years actually, never paying attention to the world around him. Questions came to mind.
If given the choice, would it be preferable to learn everything there is to know about a subject within a narrow range? Or, should we work at becoming better rounded in our education? Or, does it really matter? Simply asked: Is it better to know a lot about very little or to have some knowledge about many different things?
I’m sure the answer lies with where the passion is. As for me, I have a new respect for Texas rednecks.
Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright
Author of
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/2009
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/2007
"The Last Radiant Heart"/Virtual Tales/Summer 2010
"Anne Bonny, Where Are You?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/Spring 2010
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