My wife and I arrived on a United Airlines flight from Canada at 10:45 AM into Los Angeles Airport on Nov. 1st. Our flight to Palm Springs wasn’t until 3:05, and we had to clear customs, and go back through security.
We were looking forward to lunch somewhere, and I planned to find a corner, and hunker down with my computer, and do some editing on my next Novel, a thriller with numerous victims.
The first time we noticed something was wrong, was when the captain came on the intercom to tell us, “There would be a slight delay in getting us off the plane.” We were to be bussed to the airport, and not use the jetway.
The slight delay turned into two hours. The airport was strangely quiet. Few planes were landing. Police helicopters hovered overhead.
A cabin full of I Phones turned to MSN, CNN and Twitter. In minutes a hushed conversation had broken out amongst the passengers, “A shooting at the airport. Someone shot a TSA Agent.”
Someone asked, “Is it a terrorist attack?”
That was a good question I thought. Since the attacks of September 11th, one attack can lead to another. The attack on the TSA Agent, could have been a decoy, for a major strike somewhere else.
Buses arrived and we were taken to the Customs hall. The Customs Agents looked calm. They processed our small flight, and sent us into the airport.
I’ve been to Los Angeles Airport many times, and the quiet calm in the airport was unusual. I’m used to seeing harried travelers in long lines at Security. There was none of that. People sat quietly on the floor in front of security. Security wasn’t open. Nothing was open, and nothing was moving. This was called Lock Down.
My wife looked at me as we stood in line waiting for a flight that may or may not take off, “This lock down is like the one in your book.”
I’d used the term for a lock down after a murder in the high Arctic, in my new book Polar Bear Dawn. Did I ever expect to experience one…no, not really.
Outside the usually busy road not a car moved. Police cars raced by, their sirens blaring. Then an emergency medical van, then a fire truck. And then…the eerie silence.
Passengers talked quietly about where they were headed and what flight they were about to miss, or if they might make their connection. I thought it strange to be caught up in your destination, when something so tragic as a man has been shot. Someone’s life has ended by violence, and you wonder if it’s going to affect your vacation.
Our journey was altered that day, by the mental imbalance of one man. One man with a gun, and with rage against his government. I learned latter he’d called himself a “pissed off patriot.”
He, Paul Ciancia, a 23 year old with an automatic weapon, calmly shot Gerardo Hernandez, a 39 year old TSA employee, who was just doing his job, protecting passengers from violence in the air. Who knew the violence would begin in the airport?
We ended up picking up our bags and with thousands of other passengers, we walked away from the airport. The Hertz Rental was 2 and 1/2 miles away, and numerous passengers helped us put the bags back on the carts after they fell off when going over curbs and uneven pavement.
I heard one lady on her phone as she walked beside me, “Yeah, I walked out of New York during 9/11, and I’m now walking out of LAX airport.”
The police waved us passed, weary and shocked passengers, looking for hotels, taxis and car rental agencies. News cameras filmed us we walked. I commented to my wife how strange it was to part of the news rather than watching it on T.V.
We listened to the news on the radio as we drove in our car to Palm Spring. A sea of red lights in slow moving bumper to bumper traffic that made a mockery of the term “rush hour.” The radio commented on how the airport was still in lock down. Someone got a hold of a relative of Hernandez, the victim, he was about to turn 40. No one knew the state of the other victims.
We met our friends for dinner on Saturday night. We told them of our experience, and one of them commented how this experience would do well in my next book.
I said nothing, but I realized now that this shooting would never do well in a book. Why? Because this was a random act of violence. As a mystery writer, I know my readers need to see things connected. They want to see that things make sense.
The one thing that does make a connection is the amount of random acts of violence committed in the United States. According to a CBS News report on Wednesday, there were 85 victims of mass shootings in just over 1 year.
The Attorney General of America commented on Oct. 21st of this year, that mass shootings in America had tripled. Maybe that’s the story, the story of the Brain Behind the Gun. What has happened that people want to kill and be killed by violence.
I didn’t read his entire book, but checked out some quotes. He stated that most of the shooters were young, many just boys, and that after the initial coverage, the world went back to watching other things.
I doubt my experience of this shooting will go into any of my books, as I want my readers to see order, even if it’s order in killing. Here there was none.
My heart goes out goes out to Mr. Hernandez and his family, and to those injured and traumatized by the deranged Mr. Ciancia.
As I started writing this Blog, the news came on, another shooting took place in a Mall in New Jersey. A man shot at people, then killed himself. And so it goes, the random acts of crazy violence.
I wish you all safe travels, and to keep your loved ones close.
I heard this story several weeks ago at a wine tasting event here, where I live in the Okanagan Valley in Western Canada. A young lady from Spierling Wineries in the valley was leading us through her wines, and then she told us a story about her great, great Grandmother.
Her great,great Grandfather arrived in this valley from Italy in the 1890′s and was convinced by the missionaries that he should start a farm in this valley. He agreed, and sent for his wife.
His wife who lived in Italy, had no idea where this place was in Canada, but she boarded a steam ship that was going to San Francisco, with hopes of finding her husband in this place called Okanagan. She paid her passage by cooking for a group of Italian Missionaries on board.
In 1890, there was no Panama Canal, the steam ship went around Cape Horn of South America and up to San Francisco. A long and arduous journey.
They arrived in San Francisco, and all this woman knew was to ask for a place called the Okanagan. She spoke little English. One of the Italian missionaries turned to her, and told her, “You see that Mission Bell that is just being loaded onto the dock. That bell is going to place you are going, and so are these missionaries.”
So this little Italian woman, made another journey, from San Francisco, following that bell, to the port of Vancouver Canada. That was over 900 miles overland, and then on horse back from Vancouver some 300 miles inland to meet her husband.
She raised eight children in this valley, and her sons and daughters became farmers and business people here in this valley. And her Great Great Granddaughter was there that night to showcase their award-winning wines.
What did I see from this story? I saw that we can have all kinds of faith in ourselves, our god, or our goals, but it is the determination that will see it through.
That little lady showed that she had the faith to get on the boat, but also the determination to see her journey through to the end. Now, about the bell being on the same boat she was on? Well, I’ll let you draw your own conclusions.
As a writer, I love stories like this. I hear so many people talk about faith, whether it be in religion or in themselves, but when you hear stories about someone who persevered, that’s when the story really matters to me.
That lady followed a bell, that led her to her husband. We each follow something in our lives that leads us to our destiny, fulfillment or just to the end of the day.
I don’t care if you don’t believe me, but really, some people follow reality TV shows, some sports, but they do follow something. It is wonderful, when I hear a story of someone who followed their heart.
If you have any stories like this one, like this little lady who followed the bell, I would love to read them, you could post them here. Meanwhile, I’ll look for other stories of determination, and when I find them, then you’ll find them right here.
I’m a writer who lives in Kelowna, Canada. I have another strange addiction besides writing, and it’s riding my road bike. Riding clears my head. It lets me sort out stories, or see things that have been hiding in my own confusion.
The other day I put on my bike gear, yes I wear the Spandex, with what I call the padding or “Depends,” in the seat and headed down the hill. To start my ride I descend 500 feet towards the valley floor.
The start of the ride is a rush. Wind blows, trees rush by, and I’m doing 40KM (25MPH) down the hill. The beauty of speed on a bike, is you have to control it. If you don’t, you can lose control and crash.
That sounds like my writing to me. I sometimes write so fast, with the words hitting the page, and my ideas bouncing around that what comes out isn’t recognizable. I need to slow down, and find a speed that lets me enjoy what I’m doing, yet gets me to my goal.
My ride takes me through these fantastic orchards and vineyards. The peaches are ripe. They’re falling off the trees now their so heavy. The apples are starting to hit perfection. They are shades of green, yellow and red as they get ready. The wine grapes are getting heavy, and purple, and full. Every day the farmers are amongst the vines testing them, to see when they’ll hit perfection.
But the thing about the wine growers is they’ve been in those vineyards since February. They were pruning, they were making sure their vines would be ready. So much work they’ve put in, just to get these grapes off in September, and ready for the crush in October.
To me, this is so much like writing. The final book or manuscript you see has taken a writer months if not years to prepare. You see the final product. You haven’t seen what never made it to print. Some writing and books never make it at all. Kind of what falls to the ground in the orchards as I ride by.
I’m working on too many things these days. A new thriller book finished, and sitting in the hard drive needing a final review. A memoir is almost finished and needs two final chapters to then sit before final polish, and my second Novel is with a formatting company getting all shined up and ready to be uploaded to Amazon.
I find like most people, to do one thing at a time, and just do it well it best, but then I get bored with doing just that one thing. The ADD in me? Perhaps it is, but sometimes multiple projects works well. Getting fresh insights as you move from one thing to another can be good as well.
My bike rides always end with me climbing back up the hill I came down. The road winds up, and seems unrelenting. I have to gear down on my bike, take it slow, and just find a speed that works and go with it. Not to fast that it will tire me out, and not too slow that I lose balance.
Now that is truly like writing. Have you every found yourself in between a rock and hard place in your writing? You have no idea how you wrote yourself into that space, and not sure how to get yourself out. Here is my advice for what it’s worth. Just take it slow, but move forward. Just one word at a time.
Your muse, your creativity will find your way forward. You just need to let it find it’s way for you. You have to let it help you. I guess like the old cliché “it’s just like riding bike!” You know it as soon as you get on.
I wish everyone a wonderful day, great writing, and a great life.
I’m a bit of research junkie. Yes, sometimes I get so bogged down with researching things, I forget to write. I spent time researching Dolphins and Mayan’s for my book Dolphin Dreams, and then hours of time researching oil futures for my upcoming book Polar Bear Dawn.
Researching is fun. Hours on the web, shifting and sorting with a coffee or tea, and sometimes getting lost in the process.
Some time ago, however, I decided on some personal research. I wanted to know about my Ancestry. My brother had run into some Nicholson’s on the web some time ago, and he found out my family originated in Tennessee. I knew my Grandfather had crossed the border into Canada in 1890 or so, and my Dad was born in Canada in 1910.
I joked with my wife that, “The Nicholson’s had left Tennessee because the Fed’s had found their moonshine stills.” The real reason was they were looking for land. They headed north to Canada, as Canada had land, and was offering it cheaply to new settlers. My Grandfather was one of them.
My Ancestors the Nicholson’s had originally come from Scotland, a small island called the Isle of Skye. I was lucky enough to visit there some years ago. Skye is beautiful. It holds a rugged beauty with mountains, streams and a blanket of purple heather that appears and then disappears into the mist and rain.
Skye had about 10,000 residents, and 80,000 sheep. You’ll step in sheep droppings long before you run into anyone as you walk through the moors, and valleys. It’s just the odds.
Did I feel at home there? Absolutely I did. Every time I introduced myself to a local, I heard the familiar refrain, “Ach aye, you be from the clan of Scorry Breac,” and they’d motion or point out a small hill just off of the harbor of Portree.
I finally ventured onto my Clan lands. Fortunately a wealthy Nicholson purchased the ancient lands, and put them into a trust. I walked the lands with my wife and our friends. I loved it, especially for the view, and the added bonus there were no sheep! Walking any pathway in Scotland with no sheep poop is a tremendous bonus.
After this wonderful experience of Clan Nicholson and my homeland I did some further digging. To my surprise I found out we were actually descendants of Vikings. The Isle of Skye, like many other Scottish Islands were overrun by Norwegians in the 9th Century.
My name Nicholson came from Nicolas and son, as was the Norwegian custom. So, there it was, I was part Norwegian. Now I like Norwegians. I’ve been to Norway twice on business. They have a wonderful country, decent beer, and other than their love of strange fish dishes they’re nice people.
I was about to go much deeper into my ancestry. I thought I might research something about the Norwegians, maybe I had a relative in Bergen? That is when I came upon some research on Ancestry from a Dr.Johanson.and his discussion of someone called “Lucy.”
Lucy it seems is our great (to the max) grandmother, well according to the good Doctor who is a Paleoanthropologist, and spent years scouring the desert of Ethiopia, and found her bones there. In a remarkable speech that you can access on YouTube (enter Lucy and Africa) you will get a complete one hour lecture from the good doctor on his findings.
Lucy, or AL2881, called Australopithecus, died 3.2 million years ago. The remarkable thing is, if you check your DNA, you will be traced back to her. Yes, a little lady with a mix between ape and humanoid is our great grandmother. According to Dr. Johanson, we should all take a trip back to our homeland, back to Africa.
Now wouldn’t that be one hell of a homecoming! I’m sure the Ethiopians would be amazed at my wife and I walking into their village, and telling everyone we’re their long lost relatives!
So, what have I done about my Ancestry search now? I think I’ll give it a rest. Going back 3.2 million years is far enough. But then who knows, perhaps someday, in an exploration probe of the Galaxy, or on the planet Mars, we’ll find a match for Lucy’s DNA.
Perhaps she was dropped off here on someone’s’ journey through the Universe. You never know what will they’ll find next. I’m waiting to see who I’m related to on the planet Zargon!
About a month ago, I boarded a flight from Kelowna, British Columbia to fly to San Francisco to attend a writers workshop with James Scott Bell.
The young looking man who sat beside me on the plane for the first leg of the flight to Vancouver, turned out to be a Movie Producer. His name was Daniel Stewart. His company 144 Productions did commercials, and Independent Films. It turned out we had a lot in common. We’d both been to Israel. He’d spent almost two years there working with a production company in the past several years.
I had been there in 1971, and been an extra in Johnny Cash’s movie, called Gospel Road. We shared stories of our adventures, his in working in the film industry, and mine in my new vocation of writing, and we enjoyed a pleasant one hour flight to Vancouver.
The plane landed in Vancouver, and that’s when Daniel asked me the question, “Is there anything you’d have done differently in your life?”
Well, my life isn’t over, it is in the late innings (to use a baseball term) but I got what he meant. Daniel was 30 years old. I am 60, perhaps the Movie Director/Producer in Daniel was looking for the story in the story. I have no problem with that, and I think many of us should ask ourselves that question. Perhaps we should ask it when we’re 30.
Here is the answer I gave. I had told Daniel I developed this passion for writing in my 30′s, but I put it aside to start a business. The business did well, and from the business profits, I developed a second business in purchasing real estate, and that did well. I did retire early with a decent income from my profits – but here was the thing that always bothered me – I should have kept writing.
It was the thing I missed. I gave myself over to my business ventures, and for that 22 year period from 1988 to 2010, I was immersed in business and commerce. Did I have fun? Sure I did, making business deals and making money can be great fun. Just ask Warren Buffet, he can’t think of anything else to do…well maybe playing Bridge…he thinks that’s fun.
Before I started my business, I was enrolled in a University course to complete my degree in English, I gave it up to do my business. I was writing and getting published in magazines. I gave it up to do my business. I was working on my first fiction Novel, and yes, I gave that up to do my business ventures.
My final answer to Daniel Stewart? I’d wished that in the 22 years of working hard to make the money, that I’d kept up my love of writing. I did do some writing – I wrote business letters, proposals, and ad campaigns, but no fiction.
I am now a late blooming writer, one who is going through the learning curve, again, of writing, editing and publishing. I admit, I’m having more fun than I ever did in my business. This requires the imagination to take flight, the Muse to drop by and give the imagination a lift at times, and it’s a wonderful process.
I can only suggest to all those with a passion for something in their lives, that they do not give it up solely to make money. We all need money, it is a force that makes things easier for us in our lives, but it will never replace our inspiration, or our passion.
To all of you, who toil by day at your jobs, and work by night at your passion, whether it be writing, painting, acting or photography – don’t give up. At least keep the wheels turning, the well full of your passion as you make your money.
Who knows, one day, you’ll find yourself retired and living out your life saying, “I’d wished I just kept motived at my real passion.” Who knows what could happen.
I’m a late blooming writer, who waited 22 years for it happen to me. It is a long time to wake up again.
Now here’s the other thing that let me know I’m addicted to writing, the workshop wasn’t even in San Francisco! It was in Newark, California. Have you ever heard of it? I hadn’t, it’s a one hour shuttle van ride from San Francisco. I think I saw a outline of San Francisco in the distance as we crossed a bridge some many miles away to get to Newark.
So, at a Marriott Courtyard Hotel, with about 35 other would be, and some published writers, I was given the best course in writing I’ve ever attended. Now, I have attended some other workshops, one day mostly, and with some accomplished writers, such as Gail Bowen, here in Canada, an accomplished Mystery writer, but with James Scott Bell there was a difference.
The difference was in the presentation. In three days, from 9AM until 4PM, there was a complete presentation of plot, structure, character, dialogue, and writers voice. I felt like I was taking a compressed University semester in one weekend. But this was even better – because James Scott Bell loves film, and he used it to demonstrate each of the subjects he taught.
Now, I confess, I am slightly ADD, that’s Attention Deficit Disorder, or as my wife says, “selective hearing, and selectively present.” James Scott Bell was able to keep my interest, my focus, and my fascination with the process of writing for three full days with his variation of film and lecture.
He showed examples of how characters interact, and how plots unfold in pictures as varied as Moonstruck, The Fugitive, Lethal Weapon, and On The Waterfront. I don’t think anyone has ever been able to put all of the elements together for me like that before. It opened my eyes to how Novelists and Screenwriters play with Plot and Structure, and keep us involved.
This workshop was put together in part by Susanne Lakin, a writer, editor and writing coach. Susanne was also a wonderful resource at the workshop. She not only ensured the workshop ran smoothly, but also gave freely of her time in the evening to discuss with writers the various ins and outs of working with publishers or going the self published route.
At the end of 3 days, what did I learn? I learned that there’s a definite process and structure to writing. Perhaps I knew some of this before, but never have I had this put into such a structured format. I am a bit of a seat of my pants writer – James Scott Bell calls that a Pantser! Okay, that’s me, sometimes I like an outline, but it’s nice to flow, and see were it takes you.
Will this workshop make me, or you a better writer? I’ve always believed that good quality education, combined with effort, makes for success. The rest is up to us – one word after another – that make the stories come to life.
You can find information on workshop I just attended at www.writingforlifeworkshopscom
I wish you all happy writing, many downloads, and great reviews.
I admit, I find lessons in life from some of the strangest places. I found one from Steve Martin, and his movie The Jerk. The movie was in the 1970′s and it depicted Steve Martin’s character as a white man living with a Black family in Mississippi.
The gag in the movie, was that he thought he was Black. The Black family knew he was white, but he didn’t seem to get it. They’d play this amazing rhythm and blues music and Steve wouldn’t get it. He’d snap his fingers, and he couldn’t keep time. They shook their heads, and carried on.
One day, some Big Band music came on, what the Black Family called “white music,” and Steve Martin, started to dance, he kept perfect time. He began to glide in perfect rhythm to the music. He’d found his true rhythm.
I thought about that movie from so many years ago, because, I’ve seen so many people, including myself, who are out of rhythm with what they should, or could be doing. For me, for so many years, I really wanted to write, to be a writer.
I held myself back. I wanted money, and well who doesn’t. Most writers know, all to well, that writing is not a road to riches. It is actually the opposite, it probably has kept many writers poor. And as for Poets, well there’s no helping Poets, that’s just the road to the poorhouse. Sorry about that, just my bias.
For many years, I was a salesman, I had my own company, and I did well, but there was a thing, that feeling, that I was out of rhythm, out of tune with myself. I waited until I retired from my business to renew my writing career. It feels great, yes it feels like I’m more in tune, there is a rhythm, now. No I’m not snapping my fingers at my desk, but I’m often humming a tune.
Perhaps, there is a relaxation now. I don’t need to write to make money. I write because I want to, well actually, some times I need to. There is a rhythm when I write. One word follows another, characters appear, they say things, and they interact with one another. Like a small orchestra or band making music. A nice feeling is generated at the end of the day, as I look over pages of writing, and see something that was transformed from a blank page.
I think we know what makes us more in tune, more in rhythm with ourselves. No, it doesn’t have to be writing, or music, or anything to do with the arts, just being more in tune with ourselves, and who we are, and feel as human beings. Perhaps writing, gets me more to my human side, and that’s why I it like so much.
I can only recommend, if you feel out of rhythm, similar to Steve Martins’ character in the Jerk, perhaps try a new tune, something may happen. It did for me, and it is very nice.
I wish all of you who write, great writing, wonderful reviews, and fantastic sales.
While the world was listening to louder and louder music, and the electronics industry was developing all of these ways to make the sound pound our ears with so many decibel, Eric Clapton did the opposite, he pulled the plug.
I remember the album, so did many people. They loved it. There was a rush from other musicians to do the same, everyone was pulling the plugs on their amplifiers as quickly as possible. They all wanted to tap into this pure music that Eric Clapton had seemingly created.
But the funny thing was, Clapton didn’t create it, it was always there. He just turned down the noise. And we all loved it! We seemed to be ready for it.
I’m mentioning this, because I recently read a blog from Joanna Penn. I find her a talented writer, and her website www.thecreativepenn.com is full of great tips for writers. In her blog, she stated how she is now using an App that blocks emails while she writes. I assume its to unplug from this world of distractions.
I for one find this world quite distracting. Somehow, as we’ve plugged into the Internet, which even I have a hard time going without on daily basis, where there are emails, and tweets to view, and sort, perhaps we, and that means me, have lost the simple fascination with silence. The ability to be without distraction.
Why do I say this? Well, many years ago, back in the 70′s, I entered a yoga Monastery. I spent close to 5 years there. What do you think we practised there? It was silence. The practise of letting the mind wander all it wants, until it got tired, and let you be you. Somewhere in there, the real self would emerge. A very quiet and silent self.
So now, 40 years later, I realize how sometimes it is better to unplug. From the internet, from Twitter, from Facebook, and all of the other distractions of the world, and go back to silence. I don’t know about you, but when there is silence, I get a feeling of who I really am.
Silence helps in my writing. I know so many people write to Jazz, blues, even rock and roll. I prefer silence. Just me, and the tapping of the keyboard. My mind provides all the company I need as I create plot lines, and characters. It’s quite busy in there.
So, perhaps if you’re like me, and you find the world a bit too much. Try unplugging. Look at Eric Clapton, he did it, and everyone thought he’d started a trend. How sweet was that?
I wish all of you writers many downloads, great reviews, and good writing.
I’m thinking that somewhere along the line my brain has lost its connection to my power of reasoning, to that department that says, hang on a minute, think this through. Otherwise, why would I have just spent the last couple of weeks playing adventure woman?
Feet firmly encased in a pair of boots that have, to this point, travelled no more than 10 kms at a time and donning her back pack, grown to twice its normal size with the addition of wet weather gear, camera gear, sugary snacks and notebooks, adventure woman boards the tiny aircraft that will traverse mountains and fend off inclement weather to deposit her several thousand feet up in the earth’s atmosphere where she can marvel at the scenery, take several deep breaths and plunge into a hazard strewn voyage of discovery.
I admit, I had no idea who John Locke was until about 2 years ago. I told a friend I was writing a book, and would probably self publish.
My friend asked me if I’d heard about this guy who wrote short detective novels and sold them for .99 cents, and was getting some of the largest downloads of E Books on Amazon. Strangely enough, the story my friend sent me came from a major newspaper that wrote about business and financial matters.
To this financial newspaper, the news about John Locke was that he was making so much money. They really didn’t care what he was writing about. Detective stories? Sure why not, doesn’t everyone want to write detective stories and thrillers?
Well, if you ask the critics, that would be the people who tell us what we should or should not like about what is written,they do not like John Locke. Remember, some critics never liked Shakespeare, and what literary critic would have given Mark Twain a good review in his day? They do not like John Lockes’ use of point of view, the way the talks to the reader – yes all the conventions of writing that must not be broken. Well, until someone breaks them – and they become the new norm.
What the critics may not like is John Locke has made a lot of money on his books. How does 1 Million E books in 5 months sound? That is actually the title of his book, HOW I SOLD 1 MILLION EBOOKS IN 5 MONTHS.
That book, I understand is selling well also. If you run the numbers, you realize that John Locke made more in 5 months than many people make in 5 years. I would think that would be mostly writers, and of course mostly Independent authors, such as myself.
I have a confession to make. I made absolutely squat in my writing. You can put a diddle beside that for a diddle squat as a whopping $10.00 in my first two months of my Novella being launched qualifies me in that category.
What did I do wrong? Well pretty much everything, no pre launch, no blog, no tweets – yes you get it, none of things that people like John Locke did that made them successful. But there is one more thing that John Locke did that many writers, like me, have not done. He produced about five books, then did his blog. He presented an entire series of a guy called Donovan Creed.
I have been reading the Blogs from other writers looking for more sales on the one book they wrote, and they wonder way it’s not happening, and I think John Locke gives an obvious answer. Writers need to have more than one title for readers to get a feeling of who they are, and if they want to get involved with that writer.
I couldn’t agree more. One reader, one of my few, told me last week that they liked my first book, and couldn’t wait to read more. So, I need to get busy. I doubt if I’ll ever have the success of John Locke, but we share something in common, we both have fun writing.
I suggest to any Indie Published writer, that you pick up, or download a copy of John Lockes book, HOW I SOLD 1 MILLION eBooks in 5 Months. He is very honest about his early failures, and what worked for him in his success. I have my copy. Hopefull I’ll break out of the “diddle squat,” sales category.
I wish you all great writing, numerous downloads, and great reviews.