You can download my novel Harvey & Eck from eReader onto your new iPhone by clicking here. Or click here if you have a Kindle.
erf!
Showing posts with label Eck. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eck. Show all posts
Saturday, August 02, 2008
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Saturday, August 25, 2007
I am so taking my pants off
Well, it's finally happened. I've topped The Odyssey, On the Road and Moby Dick among some others. Thank you, Wise Distracted Minded One, thankyouthankyouthankyou.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
The people have spoken
I rarely comply to memes, but when Ken Houghton asked me for "Eight Random Things," I thought listing eight sentences from my novel would be short, fun and entertaining. So I did it.
Someone named "Brent" read that entry and left this comment:
There is no way that in a _readable_ novel of any length that this is a random sampling.
Brent baby? Your sentence structure sucks. Okay, that's enough about you. Let's talk about me.
Despite encouragement from my writer's group (Maureen McHugh was certain it would be a bestseller), pitching my book was really effing tough. But very early on, I received an unusual letter from a slush reader at a New York agency I had queried.
"I really just want you to know that your piece is unbelievably worthwhile, no matter what those elitist agencies tell you. From writer to writer, I think that you will affect my own style, my own way of presenting characters. Thank you for such a great reading experience."
As you can see, she wrote quite a bit more.
That letter, with all its heart and honesty, kept me going down Rejection Road. If this reader (who was not my mom or friend or even an acquaintance) loved my book so much, surely it had a larger audience that was entitled to read it as well. I plowed forward and eventually got an agent. She came very close to placing the book with one of the big houses time and time again. When she ran out of energy, I was on my own. I queried small publishers. One artsy indie house (MacAdam Cage) also got my hopes way up, only to shoot them down. Here's that story (have Kleenex ready):
(More sad writing chronicles available here.)
But I did eventually place my book. Since it was not with a big house, there were no glittering reviews in glossy magazines, no New York raves, no Oprah nods. But we live in democratic times. Anyone can publish anything online. And quite a few people posted about "Harvey & Eck." Here is an incomplete list of them and what they said:
Phil Plait, who also wrote me and said that he thought "it was *really* good" and never had I been so thrilled by a couple of asterisks.
Doug Hoffman.
A smart man in a fool's hat.
Dean Cochrane.
A cute chick.
A man named Garrett, who wrote more posts about the book than I could count.
A mama.
Josh Williams.
A psychic.
Hal Perry.
A flamingo.
And some comments Vince Parker left in the comment section of this silly post.
"I hope this is an appropriate enough place to intrude upon you my personal thoughts, but I am compelled to disclose to you that I read "Harvey & Eck" from beginning to end with the same eagerness and enthusiasm as your characters must have. And I saw within my self, both Eck and the Hub--and Harvey too. I must admit, that as I read, I remained skeptical that the next pages would not satisfy me. And even as I approached the conclusion, I told myself I would have to mentally re-write the ending to meet my needs. I dare say, I even found myself fearing the neglect of a certain significant object. One I won’t give away out of courtesy for others who have not read your novel yet. But I was wrong on all accounts--and gleefully so.
After I finished the novel, I noticed the words “Women’s Fiction” on the back cover for the first time. But to me, this was a brilliant work of “Men’s Fiction” in more ways than one. A smashing read. A novel that I would feel dignified to have accompany me into any coffee shop despite it’s—how shall I say this?—less conventional cover. Smashing, indeed!"
Other people called and emailed me. They loved the book. They were moved by the book. They read it again and again. They passed it around to friends. They bought copies as gifts. They asked me questions.
Now to get you started on your way to an actual review, Brent baby, here's a sample of "Harvey & Eck:"
Here's a longer one.
You can order it at any major bookstore, or it's available on Amazon for about $12.
In the unlikely event you'd like a signed copy, send me $20 and I'll send you one, I might even include a surprise or two*.
Erin O'Brien
P. O. Box 470167
Broadview Heights, OH 44147
*to anyone else who wants a signed copy, you can pretty much count on the surprises.
Someone named "Brent" read that entry and left this comment:
There is no way that in a _readable_ novel of any length that this is a random sampling.
Brent baby? Your sentence structure sucks. Okay, that's enough about you. Let's talk about me.
Despite encouragement from my writer's group (Maureen McHugh was certain it would be a bestseller), pitching my book was really effing tough. But very early on, I received an unusual letter from a slush reader at a New York agency I had queried.
"I really just want you to know that your piece is unbelievably worthwhile, no matter what those elitist agencies tell you. From writer to writer, I think that you will affect my own style, my own way of presenting characters. Thank you for such a great reading experience."
As you can see, she wrote quite a bit more.
That letter, with all its heart and honesty, kept me going down Rejection Road. If this reader (who was not my mom or friend or even an acquaintance) loved my book so much, surely it had a larger audience that was entitled to read it as well. I plowed forward and eventually got an agent. She came very close to placing the book with one of the big houses time and time again. When she ran out of energy, I was on my own. I queried small publishers. One artsy indie house (MacAdam Cage) also got my hopes way up, only to shoot them down. Here's that story (have Kleenex ready):
(More sad writing chronicles available here.)
But I did eventually place my book. Since it was not with a big house, there were no glittering reviews in glossy magazines, no New York raves, no Oprah nods. But we live in democratic times. Anyone can publish anything online. And quite a few people posted about "Harvey & Eck." Here is an incomplete list of them and what they said:
Phil Plait, who also wrote me and said that he thought "it was *really* good" and never had I been so thrilled by a couple of asterisks.
Doug Hoffman.
A smart man in a fool's hat.
Dean Cochrane.
A cute chick.
A man named Garrett, who wrote more posts about the book than I could count.
A mama.
Josh Williams.
A psychic.
Hal Perry.
A flamingo.
And some comments Vince Parker left in the comment section of this silly post.
"I hope this is an appropriate enough place to intrude upon you my personal thoughts, but I am compelled to disclose to you that I read "Harvey & Eck" from beginning to end with the same eagerness and enthusiasm as your characters must have. And I saw within my self, both Eck and the Hub--and Harvey too. I must admit, that as I read, I remained skeptical that the next pages would not satisfy me. And even as I approached the conclusion, I told myself I would have to mentally re-write the ending to meet my needs. I dare say, I even found myself fearing the neglect of a certain significant object. One I won’t give away out of courtesy for others who have not read your novel yet. But I was wrong on all accounts--and gleefully so.
After I finished the novel, I noticed the words “Women’s Fiction” on the back cover for the first time. But to me, this was a brilliant work of “Men’s Fiction” in more ways than one. A smashing read. A novel that I would feel dignified to have accompany me into any coffee shop despite it’s—how shall I say this?—less conventional cover. Smashing, indeed!"
Other people called and emailed me. They loved the book. They were moved by the book. They read it again and again. They passed it around to friends. They bought copies as gifts. They asked me questions.
Now to get you started on your way to an actual review, Brent baby, here's a sample of "Harvey & Eck:"
Here's a longer one.
You can order it at any major bookstore, or it's available on Amazon for about $12.
In the unlikely event you'd like a signed copy, send me $20 and I'll send you one, I might even include a surprise or two*.
P. O. Box 470167
Broadview Heights, OH 44147
*to anyone else who wants a signed copy, you can pretty much count on the surprises.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Eight
Eight random sentences from my novel Harvey & Eck:
Did you ever notice that Fun-Size Musketeers look like little uniform turds?
It was no help when the unabashed and semi-nude woman approached me and retrieved her lingerie, but not before embracing me in a grandiose fashion and leaving a lipstick imprint upon my already reddened cranium.
The moonlight is coming through the trees and making its own lace on the ground--delicate patterns.
I looked down to see what had got her attention and noticed that the chocolate vagina sucker was protruding from my breast pocket.
Can you see how you put dimension and texture and kaleidoscope color into a life that was little more than a droning monorail ride?
And then it was kissing and hands and clothes coming off.
So in light of this, I bought a round, then Scud bought a round and after about four or five (or six?) I figured I'd better get home.
Hold on, Harvey, and wait for a zephyr.
Courtesy of this guy.
Did you ever notice that Fun-Size Musketeers look like little uniform turds?
It was no help when the unabashed and semi-nude woman approached me and retrieved her lingerie, but not before embracing me in a grandiose fashion and leaving a lipstick imprint upon my already reddened cranium.
The moonlight is coming through the trees and making its own lace on the ground--delicate patterns.
I looked down to see what had got her attention and noticed that the chocolate vagina sucker was protruding from my breast pocket.
Can you see how you put dimension and texture and kaleidoscope color into a life that was little more than a droning monorail ride?
And then it was kissing and hands and clothes coming off.
So in light of this, I bought a round, then Scud bought a round and after about four or five (or six?) I figured I'd better get home.
Hold on, Harvey, and wait for a zephyr.
Courtesy of this guy.
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