As a (relatively) unknown author, I find myself drawn to the narratives of other similarly situated writers. This most basic form of commiseration is, ironically, a solitary thing. The common lament, never shared commonly, results from a form of forced anonymity …
I sometimes try to perforate the chamber walls of writer’s isolation: those walls that keep me bound inside of a house of anonymity. This form of dwelling is exactly the same as that taken by all the other nearly-unpublished authors. Sometimes, in a very small way, I silently commiserate with my isolated peers, and take a little time to feed the expectations of those other ones, sitting alone in their writing desks.
Last week my “Beelzebub’s Bargain” was ranked 42,000 on Lulu. That’s not as good as one might think it is. The book is entirely un-ranked on Amazon …
So, when I put a book on my need-to-read list, I pick it from a different place than the arbiters of the Best Seller’s list.
This week, my choice is “The Still Life of Hannah Morgan,” by Lora Deeprose. I found her by mining the deep and less well lit places. I was attracted to her own story, as much as to the book. The excerpt is at:
The intro did not strike me as extraordinary, but the excerpt prompted my interest because it was so mundane. Mundane, yet interesting. Creation of such a thing is the real talent of a writer.
I’m hoping to set aside time to read this one very soon….
Finally, I procured the book from Amazon. After reading it, I put it in firmly into the “chick book” category (similar to chick movies, but different). I’ve recommended it to some female acquaintances.