Tag Archives: Tina R. McSwan

Which witch is which?

by Gail Z. Martin

While we’re on the subject of supernatural makeovers, I love what has happened with the witch/wiccan/clairvoyant theme.  If you’ve been following my posts on Shelfari, you’ll see that I’ve been reading quite a few series where there’s a strong female protagonist who is a witch/clairvoyant/medium/psychic-something.  It’s the new kick-ass female empowerment.

I think it’s interesting that, at least in the books I’ve read (and there are a lot I haven’t, so go easy on me if I’ve missed something), it’s always only the women who have the witch/clairvoyant/psychic powers.  The men are skeptical if not hostile, and sometimes threatened to the point of walking out on the relationship.  I’m betting there’s a psychological comment on our culture in there somewhere.

It’s also interesting that in pretty much all of the books (again, that I’ve read—which leaves lots out, I know), there’s always at least one good girlfriend who believes in the heroine’s unusual gifts and provides support and encouragement, as well as playing wingman for everything from breaking and entering to CYA on broken dates.  Supernatural powers as the ultimate female bonding glue!

I also enjoy seeing a wide range of psychic abilities presented in a way that is much more realistic (at least, according to my psychic friends).  Clairvoyance, precognition, channeling, astral projection and psychometry are just some of the gifts I’ve seen treated with respect and integrated into series in recent years.  Much better than just lumping everything together!

Interesting side note—judging from the books, psychic powers seem to go hand-in-hand with a love of shoes and/or a passion for vintage clothing.  Go figure!

The really great news is that according to Locus Magazine, there were 614 original fantasy novels published in 2010 from major publishers, and 384 paranormal romances, as well as 251 new horror titles.  Plenty to read!  Locus notes the trends for vampires, werewolves and zombies show no sign of ending.  Some off their favorite humorous titles: Eat, Prey Love, I Kissed a Zombie and I liked it, and my personal favorite, Hold Me Closer, Necromancer (if you don’t get it, hum the tune of Tiny Dancer).

Leave a Comment

Filed under Gail Z. Martin

The Beginning and the Ending

by Crymsyn Hart 

Some writers find it hard to start a book. The first sentence or the first paragraph can even the worst thing to write. The author has so many wonderful ideas that you have to find just the right starting point. Do you jump into the middle of a scene? Do you start off with dialogue? Do you begin with describing the scene and setting up the reader to delve into the world of the characters that the writer has set up? Or sometimes it is the easier thing for the writer to delve directly into the first chapter and get into the thick of things.

For me, it is easier to jump right into the thick of things. I love that my characters are in the middle of something so the reader starts off with a bang. Of course I then go into the description of my characters and the scene and the story line that begins to unfold. But then again this also depends on how long the work I am going for is as well. If I’m writing something short, then diving head first is a good thing. If I am going for the longer work, then I set up the scene and keep on going. It all depends on the work.

Now it comes to the ending. Endings can go either way. They can be tied up in a neat little bow or they can leave a few loose ends to be extended into the next book of a series. However, I don’t seem to have a problem with the endings. Just sometimes the characters don’t want to end a book the way I want it to. In the romance genre, people expect there to be a happily ever after ending or at least a happy for now ending. Sometimes it’s hard to think of that kind of stretch, but that is what romance endings are for. For the reader to escape into a world and that the endings will be happy. Who wants the couples breaking up right at the very end when they have spent the whole book watching them get together?

Whether the beginning or the ending is the hardest for the writer to put down, it is the author who has to struggle through placing the words and hope that all ends or begins the way the author wants it to.

Leave a Comment

Filed under Crymsyn Hart, Gail Z. Martin, J.F. Lewis, Tina R. McSwain

It Is Not What It Is

by Michael A. Arnzen – https://www.gorelets.com

I can’t quite put my finger on when I first noticed the rise of the popular expression, “It is what it is,” but I suspect it began circulating in American culture almost a decade ago, shortly after the fall of the World Trade Center on September 11th, 2001. Sure, maybe it was already circulating in sports lingo and on military bases before then, but now I hear it all the time, whenever there is some kind of suffering, exhaustion, or tragedy at hand.

Lost your job due to the economy? It is what it is. Teenager out of control, experimenting with drugs and texting at the dining room table? It is what it is. Crazy unemployed man on the loose at the local playground with a shotgun, hunting down his drug-addled son? It is what it is.

The phrase is probably meant to summon our courage so we can deal with the reality of a situation. It means “get over it.” Accept the facts and move on.

But nothing is what it seems and I see this phrase as defeatist, not pragmatic. It is irresponsible at best, and censorious at worst.

As a fiction writer, especially a HORROR fiction writer, one of my essential aims to alert others to the fact that nothing is what it seems on the surface. Nothing “is” what we think it is at first glance. The truth is always “out there,” not present and accounted for. There is always something more than meets the eye, and often this “something more” is something we don’t usually want to face or confront. Horror writers show us things we don’t want to see; they remove the mask from the superficial versions of reality we often come to accept. Horror readers like to be reminded of this, and open themselves up to exploring the unknown and looking with morbid curiosity at the things they are told they shouldn’t or can’t know.

One of the greatest examples of this would be a shapeshifter or werewolf story. My favorite has to be John Carpenter’s version of “The Thing,” based on John W. Campbell’s short story, “Who Goes There?” [ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Who_Goes_There%3F ]. In this story, a shipwrecked ancient alien — essentially a mimic — is thawed out of the arctic ice near an isolated research camp. It takes the form of the last creature it devoured, and progressively devours the entire camp. We never really see the “thing” itself; the alien is unknowable. But we do see it in moments of horrifying transition, when characters catch it in the act of transformation from one being to another. These are always the coolest, and most grotesque, moments in a werewolf or shapeshifter story: the “turning” moment, when man is shown in a state of becoming something new.

It is what it is? No, it is always something else. Something either unknowable, or something different than what we expect. And something that changes. That change is scary. But it is responsible for the entire thrill.

One of my favorite horror writers, Robert Bloch (the man who created Norman Bates, in Psycho), once said that “horror is the removal of masks.” That’s become my defining phrase for the genre, and something I firmly believe that writers need to perform on the superficial skin of everyday “reality”. We tear of the mask to show “It is not what it is.”

If I didn’t see such things as my aim, I would write encyclopedia articles or laboratory reports and attempt to capture in words what things “are.” Or I would be a journalist, and tell stories that purport to chronicle events and say “and that’s the way it was” on such and such a date.

I do not mean to damn science and journalism. Objective science is responsible for raising our awareness for the way things are, but scientists never settle for things being “what they are.” They take what “it is” and unveil what ELSE it is, or what else they can do about it. They invent just like writers, sometimes. They cure things. If we said “cancer is what it is” we’d never try to find a cure.

And if we believed that journalists were solely reporting facts, we would only need one news station or newspaper, and we could consult it the way we do a common dictionary, as a guidebook to the truth, without question. Instead, clearly, there are multiple viewpoints at play in any event, and while good journalists report THOSE VIEWPOINTS, they can never entirely testify to have the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

We NEED fiction writers to indulge the imagination and consider all the alternatives, scary or not. The freedom of fiction to make things up provides society with viewpoints that science and journalism can never provide. Our aim is to show different ways of being/thinking/doing — alternatives to perceptions and common truths (if not common sense). The fiction writer’s motto is inherently that “there is always another way” of thinking/seeing/doing.

Some might argue that fiction is nonsense and tell me to get over it already, because it makes more sense to address real world problems and issues. But the more you think about it, the more the expression “it is what it is” is more nonsense than any fiction story. Stories follow a plot logic, and unfold meaning through drama. The expression “it is what it is” is illogical, and closes down meaning altogether. Let me explain.

First off, the phrase “it is” is an empty set. What is “it”? Anything. Let’s call it X. What is “is”? Being and existence. The weakest and most generalizing verb in the universe. Thus “it is what it is” turns the potent question “What?” into nothing more than an equal sign. It is what it is. X = X.

Such algebraic thinking is unquestionable, but when language and ideas enter the picture, it becomes a claim, a point of view. Logicians call such a way of thinking a “tautology” — a false argument, fallacious because it draws no conclusion from its premise. It circles back on itself, presenting the premise as if it were the conclusion. It is not only an “empty” set, but a “closed” one. Thus, it has the suggestion that the idea is inarguable, when in fact it is actually illogical and simply seeks to close down further discussion and thought. It answer the potent question “Why?” with the answer “just because.” Why is X that way? Just because it is.

It asks us to give up. To stop thinking, and to give up considering alternatives to the status quo. To accept the given “reality” and not to question where that version of reality came from. It is a claim to authority over the truth. When I hear “it is what it is” I hear the echo of a parent, saying “Why? Because I said so, that’s why.”

Now, sure, sometimes things really are what they are, but whenever someone feels the need to say so, I wonder: What are you afraid of here? How do I know you are seeing the same “it” that I am? What qualifies you to be the person who stops this discussion? And what ultimately happens when I accept your definition of what “it is”?

Declaring “it is what it is” seeks to deaden. To put an end to inquiry. To control a problem through a shrug.

But things always change, and I say it is better to treat the statement as a transition. To reply, “Okay, so now what?” or “Why is it that way?” To recover the power of those questions, what and why. That’s the only way to transform a situation from “it is what it is” to “it is what it was and now it’s something else.” Hopefully, something better.

But as The Thing teaches us, it is not always so hopeful. Sometimes “it is” something worse, far worse, than we ever imagined. That’s the fun part of horror and fantasy writing. Stories from these genres are sometimes called “cautionary” tales, because they warn us not to, say, go into the woods alone…but they also prick our curiosity about what else might be out there. They encourage our wonder, while reaffirming our fears. If “it is” worse than what we think “it is,” I would want to know that, not put my head in the sand. Because when your head is in the sand, it only makes it easier for the reaper to change his golf swing. Horror fiction reminds us to keep looking, even if we don’t want to, even when we’re told we shouldn’t. And maybe it encourages us to have a little fun dodging the scythe.

Horror fiction not only destroys the “it is what it is” tautology, it also shows us that “it is what it is not.” That things are sometimes so alien and Other that they are the exact opposite of what we believe them to be. They are UNdead, UNknown, UNreasonable, UNcanny. This is not mere opposition. It is more like “contrarianism”: it challenges us to distrust what is given to us as the Truth with a capital T. This is also why horror is discredited and denounced by those who see the entire genre as something threatening. They treat it as childish or whimsical nonsense and nothing more. Because those Truthmakers have something to lose in the questions that such a worldview raises. But there is as much truth in nonsense as there is nonsense in truth. And fiction, especially fiction of the fantastic, is a powerful reminder of this.

I read speculative fiction — science fiction, fantasy, horror — because I want to know what else “it” could be. I write horror fiction to ask that very same question.

So go ahead: tell me that it is what it is. All you’re doing is giving me ideas for more stories, so I can show you just how wrong you really are.

Michael A. Arnzen is a college teacher by day and a horror writer by night. He has been educating novelists since 1999 as faculty in the Writing Popular Fiction graduate program at Seton Hill University in Greensburg, PA, where he is currently Chair of the Humanities.  His often funny, always disturbing horror stories have won four Bram Stoker Awards, an International Horror Guild award, and several “Year’s Best” accolades. His latest book of short fiction, Proverbs for Monsters, collects the best of his writing over the past twenty years.  A new “how to” book he co-edited, for writers of all genres, called Many Genres, One Craft: Lessons in Writing Popular Fiction, will be published this Spring from Headline Books.

He invites you to subscribe to his creative newsletter, The Goreletter, at https://www.gorelets.com

As a special deal to readers of this blog, Mike Arnzen is offering signed copies of his crazy music-enhanced storytelling CD, Audiovile, for just $5 ppd! To get a sense of what it is like, visit this link for a new single (not on the CD) called “Attack of the Bleu Man Group” at:  https://www.gorelets.com/blog/weblog-exclusive/attack-of-the-bleu-man-group-exclusive-halloween-audio-story/

To get the special discount you need to order via paypal to arnzen@gorelets.com and mention the phrase “GAILZ” when you provide your information.

You can listen to the audio from when Michael was a guest of Blog Host, Gail Z. Martin’s Ghost in the Machine podcast here:  https://www.audioacrobat.com/play/WZDv4PZ4

Leave a Comment

Filed under Guest Blogger

Freebie Friday: Charles Gannon

Our guest blogger this week, Charles Gannon was kind enough to share the following poem with us:

The Charge of the Flight Brigade – removed from Charles’ forthcoming Baen novel.

The Charge of the Flight Brigade final to download.

Leave a Comment

Filed under Freebie Friday, Guest Blogger

Whither the Werewolf?

by Gail Z. Martin

Werewolves are the new hot, hairy heartthrobs.  Whether it’s Patricia Briggs’ Mercy Thompson series or the uber-handsome werewolves in MaryJanice Davidson’s Queen Betsy books, or Quentin in Dark Shadows, or even the tragic Remus Lupin in Harry Potter, werewolves are the bad boys you can’t help but love.

In many ways, the werewolf has always depicted the brutal side of male behavior. And the truth is, there’s nothing sexy about domestic violence.  (Read Tanith Lee’s take on the Little Red Riding Hood story in Red as Blood to turn this trope on its head.) Yet today’s werewolves manage to soften that brutality by focusing their aggression outwards against threats to the mate, rather than internally against their family.

So here’s my question—how domesticated can we make werewolves before they become puppy dogs?  Are we reflecting a desire to find a wolf—or a golden retriever?  And if the wolf is a little too scary, is a German shepherd or a pit bull good enough?

Don’t get me wrong—I think there’s room for people to want a broad spectrum of werewolves, from alpha males to Yorkies (well, maybe that’s going a little far).  And perhaps it’s no different than the trend to shift a vampire from being a monster to being a ultimate-warrior male who is tender at home and rips heads off out in the street (it’s business, not personal).

Yet in many ways, werewolves are traditionally more duel natured than vampires, because vampires never cease being undead, while werewolves are just like the rest of us except around the full moon.  I’ve always thought that real violence is more a part of the werewolf mythos than the vampire trope because a vampire can take blood without killing, and even provide an orgasm for the donor.  Getting gnawed on by a wolf, on the other hand, is more of a downer.

Is there a point to this rambling?  Probably not.  Just some random observations and a few unanswered questions.  I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Leave a Comment

Filed under Gail Z. Martin

It’s Epic–and It’s American

by Charles Gannon

A thought-piece on the nature of American Narratives

Arguably, there are some useful analogies between cooking a gourmet dish and cooking up a saleable story.   One of the analogies resides in the multiple avenues of  sampling and analysis that are possible.  To choose a pertinent example, one can choose to assess the dish itself, or the ingredients that are used to create it.  The latter is my focus in this micro-essay—and the narrative cuisine in question is science fiction.

While not particular to any region, science fiction seems to be served up in the US far more frequently–and with greater gusto—than any other country. It is also not known for being a ”light” cuisine: science fiction narratives tend to be sizable repasts. This does not imply that they are always intellectually nourishing (as evinced by the ideational junk-food that still dominates the output of Hollywood) but usually do manage to sate audiences’ appetites for action and adventure; they are filling, at the very least. Or, in overtly literary terms, they are rarely humble opuscules; they are usually ambitious epics.

So,by this (threadbare) process of analogical deduction, an examination of the nature—and impulses—of the American Epic should, potentially, explicate certain of the creative threads that are both employed by, and give shape to, American science fiction.  However, since there are plenty of American epics that are not science fictional, perhaps it makes sense to approach this topic through a sub-genre that is seasoned by both the mainstream and genre traditions. Consequently, American “bigger-than-life” disaster narratives may prove to be a useful point of entry into the subject–of which, because of this short fomat, we may only  expect a fleeting glance, not detailed scrutiny.

*     *     *

Arguably, many, if not most, American epics are morality plays cum primers which either reprise, revise, or rejuvenate what might be called the nation ‘s “moral self-image in the course of a crisis.”  The Towering Inferno, The Poseidon Adventure, 2012, Earthquake, and Deep Impact all have this in common: a group of individuals who are spun from  the very warp and woof of the nation’s life must work together to rise above the challenge that they face.  In the course of so doing, differences of class, ethnicity/race, gender, region, education, experience, are shown to be not merely baseless, but impediments that must be shed in the face of a crisis.  Those who cannot, or (more severely) will not give in to this situational compulsion for what might be called “cultural transcendance” almost inevitably meet grisly ends, usually hoist by their own petards and expiring unlamented.  Other, right-thinking persons may die along the way, but they are memorialized, held up as examples (often to a recidivistic group member who is shamed into moral rectitude by the sacrifice of the deceased).  Perhaps the most trite and hackneyed version of this latter trope is that of the righteous person of color who voluntarily sacrifices him/her-self to ensure the survival of the rest of the group—including the prerequisite bigot—when a desperate but ingenious bid to escape the onrushing forces of destruction goes horribly and unpredictably awry in the film’s penultimate scene.

What are the core “cultural values” being celebrated by these narrative tropes and structures—and so many others which there is no space to list here? And why are they (as a syncretic whole) so peculirly American?

There are many possible reasons (and I warmly encourage others to take up the ennumeration and analysis of all of them) but I can only deal with one here, so I will focus on what I consider both the strongest, and also, the most provocative, factor in the mix:  these tropes establish the essential national virtue of American culture–a value with deep, even urgent roots in the nation’s social contracts. Specifically, these narratives indicate that a ‘good’—and certainly a ‘heroic’—American need not be shrewd, or strong, or deft. But two traits are required—prerequisites for which no substitutes are allowed or tolerated: the hero of an American Epic must have the qualities of basic integrity (“say what you mean; do what you say)” and determination (never give up and always do your best).

What is most interesting and illuminating about these traits is their utterly democratic nature, insofar as any person may aspire to excel at them, regardless of other innate talents, predispositions, or impediments. These are the qualities celebrated not just in the form of bold heroes upon battlefields or stranded in the wilderness, but also in the Special Olympics, where physical and mental disabilities present a steep and unforgiving challenge to the participants. But that challenge becomes a peculiarly poignant and powerful opportunity to express the epic-heroic values of integrity and determination, largely because it is a foregone conclusion that no one in the special Olympics is going to set a true world’s record. Nor are they going to earn mention in the Guinness Book of World Sports Records.  And because of that, the entire emphasis, and test, of the Special Olympics is focused upon those two qualities to which anyone may aspire, and therefore, which are celebrated as the only prerequisite American (because universal) traits: integrity and determination. The political and social pragmatism (and constancy) of this valuation is a noteworthy feature of most American epics: each one serves as a kind of “folk-tale” retelling, reinforcement, and revalidation of the nation’s most fundamental juridical, political, and philosophical credos.  In essence, America reasserts, restores, and remakes itself it in every epic that it produces. And its science fiction epics are no exceptions to this rule: indeed, they may be its exemplars. But that, alas, would be the subject of another micro-essay…

Other cultures may dismiss the basic values celebrated in America’s epics as childishly delusional: that lauding mere determination and integrity simply means that the morality of an idealized playground has been hypertrophied into a cultural ideology.  This may be true, to some degree, and to the degree that it is, it may say and reveal something about America’s adolescent zeal and immaturity, about its idealism, and perhaps its uncritical self-confidence. But it may also reveal something about people who perceive only ingenuousness in such values,  may reveal not merely their worldiness, but also a predisposition toward niggardly pessismism, toward a prudent but self-limiting cynicism. As one philosopher observed, every object has the defects of its virtues.  Apparently, different cultures and their epics are not exceptions to this rule.

In closing, look for America in all its epics. But especially, look for the nation in its seemingly non-political science fictional epics, because—since the tales are usually freed of the specific flags and partisan outcries of the moment—they often hold a clearer lens up to America’s core heroic values than any other narratives do—or can.

You can listen to the audio from when Charles was a guest of Blog Host, Gail Z. Martin’s Ghost in the Machine podcast here:  https://www.audioacrobat.com/play/WVkgV7SX

Leave a Comment

Filed under Guest Blogger

Freebie Friday from Benjamin Tate

Our guest blogger, Benjamin Tate, is gracious enough to share the first six chapters of his  book, The Skewed Throne.

Leave a Comment

Filed under Freebie Friday, Guest Blogger

Vampire Trends: the more things change, the more they stay the same

by Gail Z. Martin

Ok, this will probably come as a big surprise, but I love vampires.  Yeah, I know, you already guessed.  If you’ve been following my recently read books on @GailZMartin or Shelfari, you know I’ve just read through all 9 of MaryJanice Davidson’s Queen Betsy books (the Undead and Unwed series).  They’re fun and sassy and light, and quite a hoot.  Just to give myself whiplash, I then started to read Hotel Transylvania by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro, with her oh, so sexy and mysterious Count Saint-Germain.  Completely different in tone and setting, but very engrossing.  And just to round it out, my husband and I started watching the 1991 remake of Dark Shadows on Netflix, with Ben Cross as Barnabas Collins.

Which got me thinking—my how our vampires have changed.  The original Dark Shadows was a product of the 1960s, and the remake stayed pretty faithful to the plot arc of the original.  It had a vampire yearning to be human again long before Anne Rice’s Louis, and it’s interesting to me to see that even in 1991, the idea that Barnabas and Victoria could be together without him needing to end his existence as a vampire was completely beyond thought.  Of course, in many of today’s urban fantasy books, mortals mix with many supernaturals and taking a lover among the undead is no big deal.  The subtitle of Hotel Transylvania is “a novel of forbidden love” so in the 1970s, when it was published, there was still a bigger taboo against mortal/vampire love than there is today.

Then there’s the whole vampire gravitas thing.  Saint-Germain has it—he’s a serious kind of guy.  Sinclair in the Queen Betsy series also has it—it takes Betsy to lighten him up.  Lestat had macabre humor, but he wasn’t really a lot of laughs.  Barnabas would like to have some fun, but there’s the whole undead thing stopping him. (Speaking of which, in the remake series, why do they shoot scenes in broad daylight with blue sky and pretend it’s nighttime?)

So what’s the point?  Maybe only that some things have to remain the same for us to recognize vampires as vampires.  Daylight doesn’t bother Queen Betsy, but it’s still lethal for everyone else and she can drink anything but can’t eat real food.  Saint-Germain never eats food in public.  Barnabas grieves over having no reflection in a mirror.  Although authors toy with changes around the edges of the vampire mythos, the more things change, the more they do seem to stay the same.

Leave a Comment

Filed under Gail Z. Martin

What’s in a Name

by Joshua Palmatier/Benjamin Tate

First, I’d like to thank Disquieting Visions for having me guest post on their blog. I’m honored, and hope I offer up something interesting for their readers. My name is Benjamin Tate and I’m an author with DAW Books. At the moment, my first novel WELL OF SORROWS is on the shelves and ready to be read and (hopefully) enjoyed by all. The sequel, LEAVES OF FLAME, has already been written and is in the publishing pipeline, with an expected release date in early 2012 (say January or February). The third novel in the trilogy—and yes, there will ONLY be three books in this trilogy—is tentatively titled BREATH OF HEAVEN and should be out sometime in 2013. I also have a short story out there: “An Alewife in Kish” is in AFTER HOURS: TALES FROM THE UR-BAR.

But I’m not just Benjamin Tate. I’m also Joshua Palmatier, DAW Books author. Joshua has three books out at the moment, a complete trilogy titled the Throne of Amenkor, containing the books THE SKEWED THRONE, THE CRACKED THRONE, and THE VACANT THRONE. Joshua also has some short stories on the shelf: “Mastihooba” in CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE URBAN KIND and “Tears of Blood” in BEAUTY HAS HER WAY.

When people find out I have a pseudonym (Benjamin Tate), they invariably want to know why, so I figured I’d address that issue here. There are many reasons to use a pseudonym (and I certainly can’t cover them all), but in the end they almost always come down to marketing in one aspect or another. You see, the publisher is out to sell books. They are trying to find the best way to get the book from the shelf into the reader’s hands, and from there, home. The author wants this as well, although usually their focus is to get the reader to actually READ the book once they get it home. After all, we want you to enjoy what we’ve spent so much time working on. But the reader won’t enjoy the words unless they pick up the book, so marketing is important. And there are two ways to get the book from the shelf into a reader’s hands: the cover art and the name.

The cover art is an entire post on its own, so we’ll focus on the name. For any writer, we’re trying to build up an audience—a group of core readers—who will pick up the book simply because it has our name on it. For example, I pick up every Stephen King book, no matter what the cover art is like, simply because it’s Stephen King. I want my readers to do the same thing. The publisher wants the readers to do the same thing.

So my first books came out under my real name Joshua Palmatier. They sold fairly well, but obviously didn’t explode off the shelf and onto the bestseller lists. If they had, I wouldn’t be writing this post. *grin* Joshua built up a fairly good audience, but when it came time for the beginning of the next trilogy, my publisher approached me with the idea of using a pseudonym. Pseudonyms have been used in the past to great effect for many reasons—when an author switches genre, when they switch from adult fantasy to young adult or vice versa, etc. Here, the idea was to attempt to get more of the new book onto the bookstore shelves by launching a “new” author. You see, bookstores generally use the sales of the previous book by an author as a baseline for how many of the new book to order, so if you sold 10 copies of the previous book, they order in, perhaps, 5 of the new book. This is called the “death spiral,” since the number of books ordered each time typically decreases. Joshua Palmatier was suffering from the death spiral. If the new book was launched under a new name, Benjamin Tate, then the bookstore wouldn’t have any backlist to check, and so would order more copies of the book. More books on the shelf means more book sales, since you’re more likely to buy a book if you have it in hand. That’s the theory anyway.

There’s a downside to using a pseudonym of course. Basically, as an author, you’re starting out from scratch with the new name. You can’t expect the audience that you built up under the first name to be aware of the fact that you’ve changed names. I’ve tried to let all of the Joshua Palmatier fans know that I’m now being published under the name Benjamin Tate—it’s on my webpage (www.joshuapalmatier.com), I announced I on my blog (jpsorrow.livejournal.com), put it on my Facebook page, etc. But recently, at a reading at the World Fantasy Convention, I discovered that at least half of the audience had no idea I was using a different name now. I’m sure there’s someone reading this blog right now who is finding this out for the first time. But it was agreed that the chance of increasing the audience was worth the risk of switching names. So it was done. Did it work? I have no idea. It’s too early to tell.

As a counter to what’s happened here in the United States, the German translations of the Throne of Amenkor books (DIE ASSASSINE, DIE REGENTIN, and DIE KAEMPFERIN) have garnered enough of an audience that the publisher over there is now interested in the new series . . . but only if they can publish them under the name Joshua Palmatier. So there, the audience was large enough that the reasons for using a pseudonym are obsolete.

So that’s what’s in a name . . . or at least what’s in my name. Or names. Whatever. I’m searching for that audience, the one that will buy my books no matter what. Are you part of my audience? Check out some of my books or short stories to find out.

You can listen to the audio from when Benjamin was a guest of Blog Host, Gail Z. Martin’s Ghost in the Machine podcast here:  https://www.audioacrobat.com/play/W6zFv1l7

Leave a Comment

Filed under Guest Blogger

Freebie Friday from Terry Ervin

Our guest blogger, Terry Ervin, was nice enough to share his book trailer for Flank Hawk.

You can view it at:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bCVKXkAXOlk

Leave a Comment

Filed under Freebie Friday, Guest Blogger